What's Left Behind
by Daring Duo
Summary: In this tag to The Long Goodbye, Thalan hangs around long enough to wear out his welcome with everyone, especially John. The first story coauthored by Merlin71 and Titan5.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This tag to "The Long Goodbye" begins immediately after the episode ends. It is the first story co-authored by Merlin71 and Titan5, but hopefully not the last because I, for one, have had a blast. Personal thanks to Shelly (Merlin71) for having the great idea to do this!

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately we don't own the characters or the show and our only payment is the warm fuzzies we get from writing and from reading reviews.

What's Left Behind – Chapter 1

As Caldwell left, Elizabeth shrunk down farther into the bed, making herself as small as possible. She made a point of not looking at John, certain that her face was probably red after Caldwell's mention of their kiss. She had a sinking feeling that it would be a while before they lived that little moment down.

Thalan picked up the PDL and began making a show of working on it again, trying to figure out a new plan. He'd faked the convulsions in order to convince them that he was gone and John Sheppard had returned. It had pretty much worked, but there was still one major hitch. He was stuck in the infirmary with no way to escape without tipping his hand. He wasn't sure how long he had left, not long in all probability, but he didn't want to spend it locked up. Phoebus was gone, so he guessed that meant he'd won. Little good that would do him. Some time in the next few minutes or, if he was lucky, the next few hours, he would cease to exist. Talk about a hollow victory.

He allowed himself a sideways glance at Elizabeth. She was a very nice and beautiful woman and he was suddenly glad he hadn't had to kill her just to get to Phoebus. Sheppard was glad, too. He laid his head back against the pillow, rubbing his hand against his forehead. The headache he'd been fighting all morning was really starting to throb and he noticed his arm was beginning to ache as well.

"John?"

He put his hand down and looked over at Elizabeth. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

Thalan smiled at her. "I'm okay. Just a bit of a headache. Can you blame me? It's not every day the expedition leader chases me all over Atlantis, trying to kill me."

Elizabeth sighed. "I'm _really_ sorry about that. I promise that wasn't me."

"I know, it's okay. It wasn't me either and I did some things I'm not very proud of. Rodney says it'll be a while before they get the power repaired completely."

"You should probably tell Carson about the headache, though. He'll want to know."

Thalan sighed, wishing he hadn't said anything. "I will," he lied. He laid his head back against the pillow again. "I think I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes."

He awoke to find a nurse fussing over him, surprised that he had fallen asleep, and even more shocked that he was still alive. His headache was worse and he groaned softly, bringing one hand up to rub his temples.

"Colonel, I'm afraid you have a bit of fever. I'd better go inform Dr. Beckett," the nurse said.

"Great," he muttered. He glanced over to find Elizabeth watching him, concern in her face. "How long did I sleep?" He was anxious to know the time. He knew he couldn't have much time left and it wasn't looking like he would get to leave the infirmary.

"Not long, about an hour. You were mumbling in your sleep. You kept talking about Phoebus."

Thalan felt his gut clench with fear. "What did I say?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I couldn't understand most of it. I just caught her name a couple of times."

They were interrupted by Beckett's arrival. "Colonel, Katie tells me you have a fever. I need to check the injury to your arm. I was afraid it might be a source of infection because it took so long for you to get treatment."

Thalan relaxed back into the bed as Beckett and the nurse removed the bandage from his left arm. He winced as Beckett probed the injury, sending hot pain shooting up into his shoulder.

"I'm afraid you do have an infection going, Colonel. I'll need to clean this out a bit more and get you started on some antibiotics. We'll be back in a minute and get you fixed up."

And now he was sick. He closed his eyes and willed for it to be over. He'd desperately wanted to live, to keep this body and start all over. But he knew there was no way to make it happen. He was just lying here, waiting to die, waiting for a lifetime of pain to end. He laughed. Maybe he should have just let Phoebus kill him.

"John, are you okay?"

He looked at Elizabeth once again. She seemed so concerned for Sheppard. He briefly longed to have someone care for him, to be concerned about whether he lived or died. "You have no idea how lucky you are, do you?" he asked, directing his question to Sheppard, but confusing Elizabeth.

"How lucky I am?" she asked, frowning.

He smiled. "Never mind, I was just talking to myself."

Beckett and the nurse returned and began to clean the wound again, not particularly a pleasant process. He grit his teeth against the pain, almost laughing at the possibility that these were his last moments of life. He supposed it was fitting payment for the life he had lived. When they had finished, they dressed the wound and gave him several pills to swallow, followed by Beckett tucking him back into bed.

"You need to get some rest, Colonel. One of the little pills I just gave you should take the edge off the pain and help you sleep." Beckett patted his leg. "Good to have you back."

Thalan just smiled, resisting the urge to laugh. If only they knew. He wondered if Sheppard would tell them. He lay there, thinking of the things he'd done in his life and what he'd change if he could as he drifted off to sleep, realizing that he would probably never wake up.

oOo

Elizabeth sighed as the nurse pushed the wheelchair to another section of the infirmary. "I can walk, you know. There's nothing wrong with me."

The nurse just smiled. "I know, but Dr. Beckett thought this was best, you know, just in case."

The nurse pushed her up to Ronon's bed and set the brake. "I'll be back in a few minutes to get you. Call me if you want to go back sooner."

Elizabeth nodded. "Thank you." She turned back to Ronon's bed, noting the tubes and wires running in and out from under the blanket. The steady beat of the heart monitor was a comforting and familiar sound. She'd heard it all too often when visiting members of Sheppard's team in the infirmary. But it always meant that they were still here, still with them.

"Dr. Weir?"

Elizabeth startled. She hadn't realized that Ronon was awake. "Ronon, how do you feel?"

Ronon winced as he shifted in the bed. "Been better."

Elizabeth forced herself to smile, trying to ignore the heaviness in her chest as she watched the pain flare in his eyes, the pain that she had caused. "Ronon . . . I'm so sorry. I . . . I just wish . . . I mean I tried . . . " She felt the tears well up in her eyes and her voice began to crack. What do you say to someone you shot and almost killed?

Ronon eyed her for a second before responding. "It wasn't you. I don't hold you responsible."

Elizabeth felt an odd laugh start to build inside her and she rushed to squelch it before she looked like she was totally off her rocker. She'd almost killed the man and that was all he could say. Talk about a man of few words.

"I know that, but still – I can't forget that I pulled the trigger. It wasn't me, and yet it was. I just want you to know that I'm sorry and that I would never do something like that on my own."

"I know that, Dr. Weir. Dr. Beckett says I'm going to be fine. Maybe when I'm out of here, you can show me how you took out Lorne's team by yourself."

Elizabeth smiled. "You know, I've been trying to figure that one out myself. It all happened so fast. I never would have imagined I could do something like that, even with someone else in control."

"I could show you some moves, help you defend yourself in the future."

"Just as long as I'm the one in control this time. Watching yourself harm the people you care about . . . well, let's just say I don't ever want to go through anything like that again."

"We're all still here and everyone's going to be okay. That's what's important."

Elizabeth nodded and patted Ronon's hand. "You're right. Thank you."

"Ready to get back to your bed?" asked the nurse as she walked up and released the brakes.

Elizabeth gave a strained look at Ronon. "Not really, but I don't guess I have a choice." She waved at Ronon as the nurse turned the wheelchair around. Ronon nodded as she lost sight of him and she felt much of the weight she'd been carrying lift, although she knew the guilt would always remain a part of her.

As the nurse wheeled her closer to her bed, she looked up to see Beckett and a couple of nurses working with John. He was stirring restlessly beneath the covers and kept trying to push them off, mumbling in his sleep. They had started an IV while she'd been gone and Beckett was looking concerned. She climbed into her bed, carefully watching the events taking place in the bed next to hers.

"What happened?" she asked the nurse, still standing beside her.

The nurse followed her gaze. "I'm afraid Colonel Sheppard's temperature went up rather quickly. They're trying to get it down."

Elizabeth continued to watch as the nurse took the wheelchair away. After several minutes, Carson finally came over to see her.

"Carson, what's going on with John?"

Carson sighed heavily. "His fever shot up dangerously high all of a sudden. I've started him on IV antibiotics and we're trying to keep him under a cooling blanket. I'm starting to wonder if having Thalan inside him might have somehow weakened his immune system. It's unusual for an infection to become this serious in so short a period of time. How have you been feeling?"

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Me? I'm fine. Just getting a little bored is all. Is he going to be okay?"

Beckett nodded reassuringly. "I'm sure he will. We just have to give the antibiotics a chance to kick in and keep his temperature down. I'll send out for a supper tray. You need to get something to eat."

Elizabeth nodded. She wasn't really hungry now, but she wanted to keep her strength up and keep Carson happy. "When do you think I'll be released?"

Carson smiled. "Well, I think if you feel all right and your tests look good, I may release you tomorrow." He turned to look back at Sheppard. "It looks like the Colonel will be keeping us company for a few more days, though."

"Oh, he'll love that," she said sarcastically.

oOo

John could no longer tell where he ended and Thalan began. It had been so simple at first. He's spent most of the time screaming at Thalan to let him out, let him control his own body again. Sometimes Thalan seemed almost apologetic at holding John hostage in his own mind and then sometimes he seemed to enjoy the fact that he was in full control. He'd watched helplessly as Thalan let Ronon be shot, but was thankful when he at least called for a medical team.

Everything was different now. He thought he remembered something about a fever. Maybe that had something to do with the hell he was presently living in. Everything kept shifting and changing and he could barely keep up. First they were in a helicopter, artillery bursts exploding all around them. The chopper lurched violently to the left as they were hit and John glanced at the copilot's seat to see his friend no longer had a face, blood splattered on the front glass as well as on John's uniform and the side of his face. He wiped the blood away, aware that Thalan was living this part of his life with him. "We're going down!" he yelled.

He was suddenly flying a ship unfamiliar to him, and yet he was flying it as if he was born to it. He was firing the weapons at other ships, engaged in a desperate battle in the emptiness of space. The ship weaved and spun and darted as he caressed the controls. He knew he was now living part of Thalan's life. The ship rumbled and shook as they took fire.

But then they were in a jumper. He was at the controls and someone he didn't recognize was in the copilot's seat. Thalan. They were being chased and firing drones in an attempt to fight back, although he wasn't sure who they were fighting against. The jumper lurched as explosions buffeted the ship.

"What do you want?" he yelled as he tried to regain control of the jumper.

Thalan sat there calmly. "I want you. I want your life."

"Yeah, well there's a problem with that. I'm not quite ready to give it up. I'm still living it. Aren't you supposed to be gone by now?" He pulled the jumper up and around, dodging another blast of whatever was being fired at them.

"I am supposed to be gone, but I'm not. And I'm discovering that I'm not quite ready to die just yet. The last time I checked, I was in charge here, and I think I'd like to keep it that way."

Sheppard slammed the jumper to the right as another blast rocked the ship, almost throwing him from the seat. "Could we discuss this somewhere besides a war zone? Who's trying to kill us anyway?"

Thalan smiled. "Not us. You."

Suddenly John was spiraling through the darkness, losing all sense of control. This couldn't be good.

oOo

Elizabeth lay on her side, watching the nurses come and go, checking John's IV, pulse, blood pressure, and temperature. He shifted and moved restlessly, talking and mumbling until late in the night. Suddenly he bolted upright and sat in bed, staring straight ahead, his face sweaty and pale in the dim light.

"John?" Elizabeth got out of bed and went to his side, placing a hand on his arm. "John, what is it? Can you hear me?"

Slowly he turned his face towards her, his eyes glassy with the fever. "Can't . . . Thalan . . . help me." His eyes drifted closed and he slumped over against her.

She caught him and lowered him back down to the bed, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She could feel the intense heat radiating from his fevered body as it pressed against her. "John? John, can you hear me?" She stood back, brushing the damp hair from his forehead.

His eyes flashed open and he shivered. "Please," he whispered, before closing his eyes again and going limp against the mattress. She could feel his body trembling, almost like electricity was surging through it, scaring her.

"Carson?" she called, surprised at the shrillness of her voice.

Beckett appeared almost instantly. "Elizabeth, what's wrong?"

"He sat up and spoke, but now . . . Carson, should he be shaking like this?"

Beckett gently, but firmly took her arm and pulled her away from Sheppard. "I need you to get back to bed and let us have a look."

Recognizing that she needed to get out of the way, Elizabeth crawled back onto her bed as two nurses joined Beckett around John's bed. There was a sudden flash of movement and then more medical personnel appeared. Amidst all the questions and commands being thrown around at a dizzying speed, the one thing she heard clearly was when Beckett announced John was seizing. She curled up on her side and clutched her blanket, wondering how everything could have looked so good that morning, only to look so bleak now.

Elizabeth lay watching the parade of activity next to her bed for several hours. Medical personnel came and went, adding monitors and injecting things into John's IV, checking his temperature, desperately trying to get his fever down. The restless thrashing from earlier had been replaced with an eerie stillness that gave Elizabeth the shivers. Carson would make eye contact ever so often and nod, letting her know they were doing everything that they could.

When she thought she couldn't stand it any longer, Carson finally came over to her bed. "Elizabeth, how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, just worried about John. Is his temperature starting to come down yet?"

Beckett sighed and shook his head. "Not yet. I've loaded him up with as much fever-reducing drugs as I can, but it doesn't seem to be doing any good. We're going to have to try something more aggressive. I know you can't be getting any sleep with all this commotion going on next to your bed. I thought I might move you so you can get some rest."

"No, not a chance. I'm staying right here where I can see what's going on. I won't sleep even if you do move me, so there's no point." Elizabeth stared hard at Carson, willing him to let her stay.

Carson hesitated, looked at John in the next bed, and then back at her. "All right, but stay in bed and at least try to get a little rest."

"I will. Thank you, Carson."

"We'll have to put up some privacy curtains for a while. I'm going to try giving him the equivalent of a tepid sponge bath and see if that will help cool him off."

Elizabeth nodded. "You'll let me know if works?"

"Aye, I will. Try to get some rest." Beckett moved off to the side of the infirmary and began giving the nurse some instructions. Several minutes later, they had privacy curtains set up around John's bed. She watched two nurses carry in a basin of water and some towels. She crossed her fingers, wishing with all her might that this would work.

At some point, she must have dozed off, because she woke up to find the privacy curtains down and only one nurse keeping watch over John. Dim light filtered in from the windows in the hall, letting her know it was almost daylight. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, catching the attention of the nurse checking John's vital signs.

"How is he?" she asked, the hope clear in her voice. The nurse smiled at her and she felt her heart flutter in her chest.

"Better. His temperature is finally starting to come down."

Elizabeth collapsed back against the pillows, feeling like a great weight had been lifted for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. She let her breath out slowly, the relief taking hold as the fear finally began to lessen. John was going to be okay.

oOo

John felt as though he'd done battle and lost. He was exhausted, sick, and in pain. He struggled to come to consciousness, to scream to someone that Thalan was still there, but he could never seem to quite make it. He'd almost surfaced once, had even managed to utter a few words as Thalan pulled him back under, but to no avail. He hadn't been able to make Elizabeth understand. Now he simply felt like he fought to continue existing, as though some invisible dark force was trying to suck him under and suffocate him. In his weakness, that seemed all he could do for now – to simply continue to exist. He would not give up, however long it took. He would keep fighting for the strength to challenge Thalan again one day.

oOo

Elizabeth awoke to a hand on her wrist. Her eyes snapped open to see Carson taking her pulse.

"Sorry, lass. I didn't mean to startle you." He smiled, but his eyes and the lines on his face spoke volumes about his exhaustion.

"Carson, shouldn't you be in bed? I happen to know you were up all night with John."

"Aye, I'm headed that way in a few minutes. I had to do one last check on my two favorite patients. How are you, other than being tired? I know you didn't get much sleep either."

Elizabeth looked over to John's bed. She heard the steady beep of the heart monitor and noted that no one was hovering over him at the moment. Surely that was a good sign. "Conditional response here – how's John?"

Carson let his gaze follow hers to the still form in the next bed. "He's going to be okay. His fever seems to have peaked and is slowly, but steadily coming down. I don't mind telling you he gave us quite a scare, but he's definitely taken a turn for the better."

Elizabeth smiled. "In that case, I'm okay too. Or at least I will be after a few hours of shut-eye."

"Good. I've sent for some breakfast for you and it should be here in just a few minutes. Eat and get a little sleep. I'll check on you after I've had a bit of a nap myself, and if everything looks okay, I'll release you. Not to active duty yet. I want you to rest for a few days and let me continue to keep checking on you to make sure there are no lasting effects."

Elizabeth nodded. "I can live with that."

Carson looked at her a moment as if he was about to say something, but hesitated. Finally he turned back to her. "Elizabeth, I have a question for you. Do you have any of Phoebus's memories? Did you learn things about her that you retained?"

"Actually that's two questions, but yes and yes. Why do you ask?"

Carson frowned. "Well, while the Colonel's fever was going up and he was delirious, he was doing a lot of talking."

Elizabeth nodded. "I remember. I couldn't understand most of what he was saying though."

"Well, I only made out bits and pieces, but some of it was . . . let's just say I'm pretty sure they weren't his memories. They sounded like things from Thalan's past. There were names mentioned that I've never heard of on earth, or even since we arrived here. I was a little worried that, well, that Thalan was still with us."

"It's weird, but I do remember, very vividly, many things from Phoebus's past. It's like snapshots of her life. I'm not sure if she shared those things with me on purpose, or if they just sort of . . . leaked through. I am sure of one thing. She was full of hate. Seething, uncontrollable, totally irrational hate. I think I better understand why some negotiations fail and wars persist. The hate totally blocks out all rational thought. In the end, even though she understood that Thalan probably no longer occupied John's body, she was still going to kill him, basically because Thalan had been there at one time." Elizabeth shuddered. "_I_ was going to kill him."

"No! Elizabeth, you can't think that way. That wasn't you."

She looked down at her hands. "I know and I keep telling myself that. But I also keep seeing _my_ hands pull the trigger and shoot Ronon. I keep hearing _my_ voice telling Teyla to kill John. I know that _my_ hands would have killed John if he hadn't stunned me. It's going to take a while to get past that."

Carson placed his hand on Elizabeth's. "But you will. And we will be here to help you do it." He looked over at John. "I imagine we'll have to help him fight some of those same demons. And it's the second time for him, in a manner of speaking."

Elizabeth raised her brows. "I hadn't thought of that. I guess it is kind of a strain to face the people under your command after you've beaten the crap out of them." She thought of Lorne's team and Ronon. "Guess I'll find out about that one myself."

"Major Lorne said we should make you a one woman commando unit. You know, you may actually get a little more respect out of this little incident. The next time you yell jump, I know a few people that will be asking how high."

Elizabeth grinned. "Now _that_ I could get used to."

oOo

"You remember the part about not being on active duty yet, right?" asked Carson sternly.

Elizabeth resisted the temptation to roll her eyes, deciding it was probably not a good attitude for the expedition leader to express. Instead, she smiled sweetly and responded, "Yes, Carson, I remember. I'm supposed to rest and take it easy for the next few days."

Carson nodded. "Good. You can change while I do the paperwork thing. You're clothes are in the chair over there."

Several minutes later, Elizabeth was back in her own clothes and waiting for Carson when she wandered over to John's bed. She placed her hand on his arm and was a little surprised to feel the hot touch of his skin. His temperature was still quite high and she frowned, wondering what had caused him to get so sick. She was staring at his face, lost in her thoughts, when his eyes fluttered open.

"John?"

He looked blankly at her for a second, making her wonder if he was really seeing her.

"Phoebus?" he whispered, his voice so soft she barely heard it.

She leaned over so her face would be closer to his. "No, it's Elizabeth. Phoebus is gone."

"Phoebus . . . gone?"

She smiled and squeezed his hand. "Yes, Phoebus is gone for good. You're safe now."

He blinked a few times and then seemed a little afraid. "I'm John."

"I know. It's okay. You've had a high fever, but you're going to be okay now. You just need to rest and get better."

Thalan looked at her quietly for a few seconds, studying her face. "Tired."

She nodded, a little disturbed at his disorientation, and placed her hand against his fevered face. "Close your eyes and sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."

He watched her for a few more seconds before allowing his eyes to close. She stayed there beside him for several more minutes, watching his even breathing and convincing herself that he would really be all right.

oOo

Thalan knew he was sick and weak. He wasn't completely sure why he was still here, but he wasn't going to argue the point with anyone. He wondered if the sickness and the fever had anything to do with his continued survival. He didn't know and he didn't care. He had somehow survived and he would continue to survive. He was finding it a constant struggle to hold Sheppard back and keep him from taking over. Although the illness had weakened him, it had weakened Sheppard even more, allowing Thalan to resume and maintain control.

He would have to convince everyone that he really was Sheppard, at least until he tired of Sheppard's life. Although others in Atlantis might be skeptical, he knew Elizabeth trusted him implicitly, especially after their mutual possession. She knew Phoebus was gone and so she assumed Thalan was as well. Having the loyalty of the expedition leader would definitely be to his advantage. He might _enjoy_ being John Sheppard for a while. He could do all sorts of things, including some things the real Sheppard probably would not.

oOo

Elizabeth stepped into the doorway of Carson's office to see what was keeping him, only to hear Major Lorne's concerned voice.

"But how do you _know_ she's Dr. Weir and not Phoebus? What if we're turning that maniac loose on the city again?"

Carson huffed. "Major Lorne, I assure you that Phoebus is gone and Dr. Weir is back. You'll have to take my word for that."

Elizabeth smiled and crossed her arms. "I'll try not to act like a maniac any more, Major Lorne."

Lorne spun around as his face turned bright red. "Ma'am . . . I'm sorry, I'm just concerned for the city. I didn't mean anything against you."

Elizabeth arched one eyebrow and sighed. "Are you sure you're not just worried about getting taken down by a girl again?"

Lorne was speechless. He just stood there, opening and closing his mouth several times before finally giving up.

Elizabeth waved her hand at him. "I'm just kidding, Major. I understand your concerns, and I _would_ reassure you that I am me if I thought it would do any good. I guess you'll just have to keep your eye on me for a few days."

Lorne still looked uncomfortable. "Yes, ma'am." He quickly exited the office, looking at the floor as he squeezed past Elizabeth to get through the door.

"I think you scared him," said Carson, his eyes twinkling.

"Good."

THE END . . . of part 1.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the reviews as we make our joint story debut.

What's Left Behind – Chapter 2

John could feel Thalan sapping what little strength he had left. Or maybe it was the fever sapping his body and his spirit, he wasn't sure anymore. Not that it mattered. Either way Thalan was in control of his body. He had access to his thoughts and he made John say things that were out of context. Things that were lies. What bothered John more than anything was that Thalan knew everything about him. Knew the way he thought and what he thought about others. He knew everything and he could use it to control Atlantis and the others. And John knew that Thalan had a plan. He knew Thalan wanted to keep control of him, to keep his body to use at his whim. What scared John was not knowing if he was strong enough to stop him before someone else got hurt.

A familiar voice pulled John out of his reverie and he realized Beckett was fussing over him. Over his body. He wanted to scream at the man that Thalan was still in him. He wanted to be able to do something to that would make Beckett realize something was wrong. But he didn't have the strength. John railed against Thalan's will. He screamed at him to get out. He tried to focus all of his own will to force Thalan to speak the truth, but nothing happened. Thalan was battling the weakness of John's body at the moment, but he still had enough control to keep John muted.

The invisible dark force of Thalan's control over him, wrapped around John once more and he was pulled back into oblivion.

OoO

Thalan managed to push Sheppard back into the recess of his awareness where he could not do any harm, so to speak. Which left him free to focus on the doctor. Beckett. The man was asking him questions about how he felt. Or rather, how Sheppard's body felt. It was easy enough to give him the truth. It was harder to remember that he had to be Sheppard for now. At least until this body was well again. Then he could find away to be free to live his own life. That he would be doing so in another man's body made no difference to Thalan. To his mind he had earned this right. He had battled Phoebus and won. But more than that he was the last of his kind and he would not allow the fates to make him simply disappear. Thalan wanted to live.

"Would you like an ice chip?" Beckett asked.

Thalan was confused by the request, wondering what an ice chip was, but he nodded and a moment later a piece of frozen water was slipped between his lips. It felt heavenly on his tongue, easing the sore dryness of his throat. "Thanks," he whispered.

Beckett patted his arm. "You're welcome, son. Can you tell me if anything hurts?"

"Head," Thalan replied, because it did hurt and if the doctor could do something to make it better, he was all for it. He needed Sheppard's body to be well and strong again.

"I can give you a bit of something to ease the pain," Beckett allowed. "But what you need most right now is to rest, Colonel. You're temp is still high but we're doing everything we can to get it back to normal. Rest now and you'll be feeling right as rain again soon."

Thalan found himself believing the man, because he knew that Sheppard trusted him. He knew that Sheppard did not trust easily, but that he could be fooled because of his own desire to believe in the good in people. A naivety that was dangerous for any soldier, but Thalan knew that Sheppard was not like most soldiers. Not like most men, really. It was something he found himself admiring about the man at times. Realizing he was drifting away from the moment, Thalan focused on Beckett and asked, "How long?"

Beckett seemed to understand. "You're going to be down and out for a while, Colonel. Once we get the fever under control, you're going to be weak. So don't be getting any ideas of sneaking out of here any time soon." As he spoke, Beckett shook a finger at Sheppard.

Anger welled up in Thalan, anger that this stranger would take that tone with him, only to remember he was Sheppard now and that he needed to act accordingly. He had to live out this charade until he was strong enough to escape this place. Thalan believed he would be able to live again in Sheppard's body. If it were not possible then his imprint would have ceased to exist by now, but he was still here and he would get stronger. So he quelled the anger and whispered, "I'll be good." It seemed to be the right thing to say. A Sheppard thing to say, because Beckett grinned at him and looked relieved.

"Sleep now," the doctor ordered.

Thalan resisted the urge to snap at the man, instead letting his eyes drift closed as he slid into warm darkness.

OoO

Elizabeth headed for her office after leaving the infirmary. A part of her wanted to stay there, to keep an eye on John, but she knew he was in good hands with Beckett. Besides which, she could go back later and maybe read to him for a while. He didn't seem to be getting to far along in War and Peace on his own. Mostly, if she were honest with herself, Elizabeth just wanted to be near John. No one else could understand what she felt. No one else could even imagine what she had gone through. What it had felt like to have no control over her own body. To be lost inside herself. To be screaming and no one hear her.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that Elizabeth didn't notice the figure coming out of her office as she was about to enter and they collide. Elizabeth stumbled back but strong hands caught her arms to steady her and she looked up to see Caldwell's concerned face. For a moment she was surprised to see him, only to remember that he was sticking around until she was back on duty. Somebody had to be in charge of Atlantis with her and John out of commission, and Elizabeth was rather glad it was Caldwell. He had proven himself to be capable and trustworthy. He had done a good job of controlling an out of control situation. "Sorry," Elizabeth apologized. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going?"

"I could see that," Caldwell allowed. "Did I hurt you?" He asked the question as he released her.

"I'm fine." Elizabeth managed a warm smile. "I want to thank you for agreeing to stay and keep an eye on things while I'm out of commission."

Caldwell shrugged. "It's the least I can do. Although I'm not happy about the circumstances, I'm glad that what happened has given me a chance to regain your trust. I know Colonel Sheppard wasn't too happy to have me back here."

Elizabeth had pretty much felt the same way, but too much had already been said that she preferred to forget about. "I think at this point we're all glad you're here."

"Did Dr. Beckett tell you when you can go back on duty?" Caldwell queried, as he stepped aside so Elizabeth could enter her office.

"A few days," she replied, moving to her desk but resisting the urge to sit down and pull up the daily reports on her laptop. "To be honest I can use the rest. Being imprinted and fighting against Phoebus's control was exhausting. All the more so because I was so damn helpless."

Caldwell moved to stand before her and nodded. "I know the feeling. But Phoebus is gone and you're fully back in control. Just give yourself to rest and you'll feel comfortable in your own skin again."

Elizabeth felt her eyes go wide at Caldwell's perceptiveness. But then she realized he was the only other person, besides John, who could understand what she had gone through. "I hope you're right," she said with sincerity.

"How is Colonel Sheppard doing?" Caldwell countered. "I understand he fell ill last night."

"He's doing better but his temperature is still high," Elizabeth replied, and that reminder brought back the full weight of her concern for John. He was sick and suffering and, ultimately, it was all her fault. If she hadn't chosen him to be imprinted by Thalan, then he wouldn't be going through hell right now.

Caldwell studied her and he seemed to be reading her pretty accurately as he stated, "Stop feeling guilty, Doctor. Phoebus is responsible for what happened to Sheppard, not you."

Elizabeth sighed, one hand lifting to her face and she scrubbed hard. "Tell that to my conscience."

"You need a distraction," Caldwell said firmly, taking her by the arm and guiding her out the door. "Let's get something to eat."

"Okay." Elizabeth didn't argue because she was feeling hungry and she most definitely needed the distraction. So she let Caldwell lead her off. But right after they ate she was heading straight back to the infirmary.

OoO

Thalan slid between darkness and light. Sometimes he dozed and other times he simply lay there, listening to the voices and movement around him. He needed to learn about this place and its people. He needed to belong here. If only Sheppard's body would cooperate. Thalan cursed this unexpected weakness. Before becoming ill, being in Sheppard's body had been a gift. Sheppard was a strong and fit man, a fighter pilot like Thalan himself. He was a clever man as well, managing to find ways past Thalan's defenses. Sheppard had chipped past his defenses at times and Thalan was angry at himself for that. He would have to be more careful in the future. He couldn't do away with Sheppard because he needed the man in order to survive in this body. He needed what Sheppard knew. But he had to find a way to keep the man's spirit under his firm control.

"Colonel?"

The soft voice, so close to his ear, startled Thalan, making him - or rather Sheppard's body - jump. His eyes flew open and he found himself staring at the face of the woman who had come close to shooting him. Teyla. That was her name. She was beautiful and exotic and Thalan was drawn to her. He knew that Sheppard considered her a good friend. That he cared about her deeply, but that caring was tempered with admiration and respect. Sheppard considered Teyla to be his equal. "Hey," he said, knowing it was a familiar greeting between them.

Teyla looked worried. "I am sorry, John. I did not mean to startle you."

"S'kay." Thalan heard how his words were slurred. That bothered him. This body felt too hot and his head was hurting again.

"I wanted to apologize for what happened. I did not wish to harm you." Teyla looked stricken as she spoke. "But I had no choice, if forced. I would have shot you." She was making a confession.

Thalan had no interest in it. In truth he was angry that she had almost brought about his demise. But he realized that Sheppard felt forgiveness towards her, so he gave in to it. "I would...would have done the same," he whispered. And it appeared to be absolution enough for Teyla visibly relaxed and a smile curved her lips.

Leaning over him, Teyla pressed her forehead to his and said softly, "Thank you."

"Sure..." Thalan broke off as a fit of coughing overtook him. It made the pain in his head spike and he felt nauseous but suddenly Beckett was there with another ice chip and a cool cloth for his head. After a moment he felt better, or would have if Sheppard were not screaming in his mind. He wanted to know about the other one. Ronon. The warrior that Phoebus had shot. Thalan was pleased with himself for having the wit to use Ronon as a shield. Sheppard had screamed and screamed at him for that one. To the point that Thalan had relented enough to call for a medical team to help the big guy. Thankfully, Sheppard had fallen silent for a time after that. But he was far from silent now so Thalan croaked out, "Ronon?"

"He is resting," Teyla replied, before Beckett could. "He has asked about you. He is worried."

Thalan managed to raise one shaky hand to his head, pressing hard against his temple. Sheppard would just not shut up! So he gave in enough to choke out, "Tell him...I'm...I'm sorry. Sorry he...got hurt." It hurt to say and Thalan felt exhausted.

Teyla touched his arm lightly and replied, "I will let him know. But he does not blame you, John. He knows you did not betray his trust."

"Good." It was hard to say because what Thalan really wanted to do was scream at Teyla to leave him alone. He wanted everyone to leave him alone. He was tired and hurting and he felt as if this body was on fire. As if he were burning from the inside out.

"Are you in pain, Colonel?" Beckett interjected, his concerned face hovering above Thalan.

If he had the strength, Thalan would have punched the man for his stupidity. Of course he was in pain and Sheppard's screaming in his head wasn't helping. Thalan was about to ask for medicine when he felt a hard shudder course through Sheppard's body. Followed by another. Then another. Then white-hot pain was coursing through him and Thalan wanted to scream but suddenly he couldn't breathe. But he could hear voices.

Beckett was shouting orders to Teyla. "He's convulsing, hold him down!"

He felt hands on him, heavy and painful. Then darkness claimed him.

THE END . . . of part 2.


	3. Chapter 3

What's Left Behind - Chapter 3

Elizabeth walked through the infirmary door and straight into organized chaos. Teyla, Beckett, and a nurse appeared to be holding down John as he thrashed against them. Other nurses and medical personnel scrambled around them, trying to ride the fine line between helping and being in the way. After a long few seconds, John settled and the nurses moved in as Teyla backed up, never taking her eyes off the now still form. Elizabeth came up beside her, startling her.

"I'm sorry, Teyla, I didn't mean to scare you. What happened?"

Teyla's brow was furrowed, her lips pulled thin, tension almost radiating from her. "I was talking to Colonel Sheppard . . . he began having convulsions. His body is so fevered, so hot . . . " She turned to face Elizabeth. "I do not understand what has made him so ill."

Elizabeth chewed on her lower lip, her eyes never moving from where the medical personnel were working over John. Their words were clipped, their voices tense, as they called out questions and answers across the bed. She watched in fearful fascination as they started another IV and placed an oxygen mask on John's face. Only then did she realize the wheezing sound she had been hearing was John attempting to breathe.

After several minutes of agonizing uncertainty, Beckett finally approached the two women. "I'm sorry to have left you standing here so long. His temperature has shot up again, and we're going to have try to cool him down. He can't keep having seizures like this. I'm going to ask you both to leave and check back with me later so I can concentrate on helping the Colonel."

Elizabeth's frown met Beckett's equally unhappy expression. "Carson, just tell me he's going to be okay."

Carson sighed and looked back at Sheppard before returning his gaze to Elizabeth. "I wish I could, but I've never seen anything like this. To be honest, I'm not too certain what's going to happen. Just keep your fingers crossed."

Beckett nodded at the women and then headed back over to Sheppard's bed. Elizabeth looked at Teyla, worry lines around her mouth and eyes. "How about a cup of coffee . . . or maybe tea?" she asked, remembering at the last minute Teyla's preference.

Teyla nodded. "I would like that." With one last look toward Sheppard's bed, the two women headed for the mess hall.

oOo

For a short time, John thought maybe he was making some headway. He fought with all his might and he actually succeeded in getting Thalan to ask about Ronon and apologize for getting him shot. He was screaming and pushing, trying to shove Thalan's thoughts aside and take over his body again. Thalan was beginning to weaken, he was sure of it. He was hampered by the sickness, well aware of the fever that burned inside and the pain it brought with it. And then they had both lost all control as his mind and body rebelled at the war being fought within it. He was briefly aware of Thalan's panic, as his own set in, just before the chaos turned into darkness.

oOo

Beckett stood looking down at Sheppard, wondering how an infection could manifest itself so quickly and viciously as this one had. He watched two nurses gently stroke Sheppard's body with wet rags, trying to bring his fever down. Privacy curtains separated him from the rest of the infirmary as he lay stripped, except for the towel draped across his hips in an attempt to maintain his dignity. His skin glistened with the moisture of their efforts and yet remained hot to the touch, causing the nurses to wonder if anything was going to be successful. They had worked for hours with no change in his temperature.

Beckett sighed. He had done everything he knew how to do. The rest was going to be up to Colonel Sheppard. "Keep at it, ladies. That's all we can do."

He walked out from the curtained area to see Teyla and Elizabeth talking to one of the nurses. Part of him wanted to avoid them so he didn't have to see the worry in their faces or tell them that the Colonel wasn't any better. But he knew that wasn't fair, that it was the coward's way out, so he made himself steer towards the waiting women. From the looks on their faces, the nurse had already delivered the blow for him.

"Elizabeth, Teyla, I see you've been talking to Kelly."

Elizabeth nodded "John's not any better?"

"I'm afraid not, lass. We're doing all we can, he's just not responding. I don't know what else to tell you."

"Doctor!" All three turned at the shrill shout of the nurse and Carson was on the move a split second later. He made it to Sheppard's side in record time.

"What's happening?" Even as he asked, he saw Sheppard's glazed eyes open and he lurched forward a few inches, trying to sit up. Beckett pushed him down against the bed. "Take it easy, Colonel. We're doing everything we can to help you, but you've got a very high fever."

Sheppard swiped at the oxygen mask in desperation, his eyes wild and his movements sluggish. Carson caught on and moved the mask down and off his face.

"What is it, lad?"

"Tha . . . Thalan . . . not . . . " Sheppard grunted in pain and squinted his eyes shut. "No . . . stop . . . Thalan . . . " He let out a low, agonizing moan before starting to gasp for breath, his eyes closing as he lost the battle to maintain consciousness. Beckett moved the oxygen mask back over Sheppard's face.

"What was that?" asked Elizabeth, standing a few feet behind Beckett.

Beckett shook his head. "He's delirious with the fever. I have no idea what he was trying to tell us, and I doubt he does either."

"Carson . . . "

Beckett turned to Elizabeth and ushered her and Teyla outside the curtains. "I know, lass, I know. Why don't you two go get some sleep and check back with me in the morning. Maybe by then I'll have some good news to report."

"How long can he hold out with a fever like that?"

Carson sighed heavily. "Just get some rest and let me worry about that." They watched the exhausted doctor turn and make his way back to his patient, realizing that he had been afraid to give them a straight answer.

oOo

Thalan gave a mental sigh of relief. Sheppard had made one last, stubborn stand, utilizing all of his energy and had failed. Thalan had been able to shut him up before he delivered his full message. Sheppard would now be out of commission for a while, giving him a chance to take charge. He was also weak and still very sick, but not as incapacitated as Sheppard – lucky for him. He could rest now and get stronger, taking over the Colonel and his life. He would be able to live again. He drifted off into a peaceful sleep, confident that he would wake up stronger and in control, with a new life full of possibilities.

oOo

Elizabeth entered the infirmary, almost afraid to look toward John's bed, afraid that something had happened and he wouldn't be there. She was surprised to see him sleeping peacefully, with no oxygen mask and no nurses in attendance. She quickly stepped to Carson's door, her heartbeat picking up speed in her chest as hope soared within her for the first time in a while.

"Carson?"

Beckett sat up abruptly, his head snapping up off the desk as he yawned and rubbed his eyes. He automatically went to stand, staggering a bit and knocking several files off his desk. "Aye, I'm coming."

Elizabeth cleared her throat, trying not to smile. "It's okay, Carson. It's just me checking up on John. He looks better this morning."

Beckett stood wavering a second before he pieced together where he was and what was happening. "Oh . . . Elizabeth. Yes, he's doing much better. I'm sorry, come in and sit down."

Elizabeth sat down and was relieved when Carson followed suit. She had been momentarily afraid she'd have to call his nurses to pick him up off the floor. "When was the last time you slept, Carson?"

He looked at her bleary-eyed and trying to blink some of the grit away as he stifled another yawn. "Sleep . . . I don't really know, it's been a while. But you're here to find out about the Colonel, not me. I'm not going to pretend I understand this, but his temperature began dropping shortly after you left. Last I checked, we had him down to 100.5, which is a far cry from where we began. His breathing is much better as well. Once the fever broke, his lungs began to clear up."

"But you don't know why he improved so much?"

Beckett shook his head. "I have no idea why he got that sick in the first place, much less why he suddenly improved the way he did. You don't usually see a fast, relentless fever like this in adults, even with an infection. We had done everything we could for him and nothing was working. I was afraid for a while I might have some very bad news for you this morning, and then poof. Suddenly, he's better."

"Well, I guess we shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth."

Beckett shrugged his shoulders. "I guess not. He's still asleep, but you can see him a minute if you like."

Elizabeth grinned. "Yes, I'd like that."

Beckett got back up, a little steadier on his feet this time, and led Elizabeth to John's bed. She took his hand in hers as she moved up beside him and reached out to shift a lock of hair away from his forehead. His skin was much cooler to the touch than it had been last night, and she felt herself beginning to relax. Maybe this was finally about to be over and they could get back to normal. She was a little surprised when he opened his eyes, and noticed Carson seemed equally shocked.

"John, it's Elizabeth. You've been pretty sick, but you're going to be okay now."

John frowned and looked around the infirmary, looking disoriented and confused. "John? No, who . . . who's John?"

Now it was Elizabeth's turn to frown, worrying that the prolonged high fever or the seizures might have caused some harmful, long-term effects. "John, do you know who I am?"

John just looked at her, his face having relaxed back to an expressionless mask. She noted the glassy eyes and pallid features as she wondered if he had heard her.

Beckett had been checking on Sheppard's IV on the other side of the bed, but now leaned over to put his head close to Elizabeth's. She thought he looked almost as concerned as she felt.

"Colonel Sheppard? Son, do you know who we are or what happened?"

Elizabeth could have sworn a look of anger flashed briefly across his face as he whispered, "Thalan." And then he was asleep again, his chest rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm.

Elizabeth looked slowly up at Beckett. "Carson?"

"I think he's just exhausted from the fever. It took a lot out of him. Give him some time and I think he'll be more clear-headed when he wakes up. He just needs some rest."

Elizabeth nodded. She looked up at the droopy, red-rimmed eyes over dark circles and bags. "I think I know someone else who needs some rest. You better get some sleep before you fall over."

Beckett smiled and looked down at Sheppard. "Aye, I think I may actually be able to go to sleep now."

Elizabeth smiled as Beckett tried in vain to stifle another yawn.

oOo

Almost twenty-four hours later, Elizabeth returned to the infirmary to find an entirely different situation. She had stopped back by the night before to find John still sleeping and Beckett unconcerned about it, stating it was normal after what he'd been through. Still, Elizabeth found herself unable to shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong. So the first place she went after the coffee pot was the infirmary, to check on a certain Lt. Colonel. She found him sitting up in bed devouring a tray of breakfast foods while Beckett looked on in amazement.

"Carson, you look like you've never seen anyone eat breakfast," she quipped as she approached the two men.

"I've just never seen _him_ eat like this. Ronon yes, Colonel Sheppard, no. It's like he hasn't tasted food in eons."

Thalan swallowed his food and paused. "Ten thousand years and food tastes pretty darn good." He realized what he had said almost immediately and mentally slapped himself. "Well, it feels like ten thousand years, anyway." He bowed his head to escape their prying looks. He wasn't sure if he'd given himself away or they just thought he was brain damaged. He couldn't keep making these mistakes. He'd been disoriented when he had awakened the day before and not realized he was in someone else's body or who these people were. It was lucky for him he'd been too weak to say much.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm glad to see you have a healthy appetite. You're recovery will go much more quickly if you're eating properly." Carson crossed his arms and looked pleased.

Elizabeth smiled at them both. "John, I'm assuming you feel much better. You certainly look much better."

_You are John Sheppard. You are John Sheppard_. Thalan kept repeating it over and over, hoping to drill that little fact into his mind. "I'm good." The statement popped out, and it seemed right for Sheppard to say. Elizabeth and Carson accepted it with a nod, so it must have fit with what they had expected.

Elizabeth shifted her gaze back to Beckett. "How is he, _really_?"

Thalan successfully squelched the reply that immediately came to mind. He was offended at the automatic assumption that he was not telling the truth about his condition, until he remembered they thought he was Sheppard. He knew Sheppard found this tiring, as did he, but he remained silent, choosing to finish his breakfast and listen.

"Amazing, actually. While I've never seen anyone get so sick so fast, I don't think I've ever seen anyone recover from something so serious this quickly either. His temperature is back to normal and has been since late yesterday afternoon. Obviously his appetite is healthy. His arm has cleared up and there's no longer any sign of infection. Other than getting his strength back, which might take a day or two, he seems to be perfectly healthy."

Thalan finished eating and downed the glass of juice on his tray. "So when can I get out of here?"

Beckett narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "Let's not get in too big a hurry. I want to run your blood work one more time and keep you for observation a little longer. I don't want to release you and then have your temperature shoot back up again. Let's just see how you do the rest of the day and we'll talk about it this evening."

Thalan felt his anger flash hot and it was all he could do to keep from throwing the empty food tray across the room. He clenched his fists as he tried to control the seething fury until he noticed Beckett watching him, his eyes reflecting uncertainty that made Thalan nervous. _Get a hold of yourself before you blow it. _He forced his hands to unclench and rubbed them together in an attempt to relieve the tension.

"Colonel?" Beckett was still frowning at him.

"Yeah . . . okay, Doc. I'm kind of tired anyway. It'll give me a chance to get some rest."

Beckett nodded, but still didn't look convinced that all was well. He'd just have to be a model patient and watch what he said. He was so close to being free he could taste it, heck, he could smell it, and there was no way he was giving it up now.

Thalan pushed the rolling tray table away and leaned back against the pillows. Beckett pulled his hand away from where he had begun absently picking at the tape on his IV line and smoothed the tape over the back of his hand.

"Colonel, you're like a child sometimes. If that's a hint, then I'm not taking it. You need the IV for a bit longer, so leave it alone."

Thalan hadn't realized he'd been doing that and it unnerved him a little. Sheppard seemed to be safely tucked away and yet that had apparently been a "Sheppard" thing to do. At least it had taken Beckett's mind off his doubts and convinced him he was dealing with Sheppard.

"Sorry, Doc. Didn't realize what I was doing." Thalan flashed the lop-sided grin that he'd already figured out was standard fare.

Beckett and Elizabeth shared a smile and a mock sigh of exasperation. "Yeah, he's back," commented Elizabeth. Thalan just grinned broadly.

THE END . . . of part 3.


	4. Chapter 4

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What's Left Behind - Chapter 4

Beckett loosened the blood pressure cuff and slipped it off Sheppard's arm. Dropping it onto the edge of the bed, he picked up the datapad and began recording his blood pressure on the chart. "Looks like everything is back to normal, Colonel. I must admit, you're making a splendid comeback. It's hard to believe that less than forty-eight hours ago, I was afraid of losing you."

"When can I go?" Sheppard seemed unimpressed by the doctor's statement and kept looking impatiently toward the infirmary door.

"Do you have somewhere to be?"

"No, just anxious to get back to my quarters. No offense, Doc, but the infirmary isn't my favorite place." Sheppard grinned impishly, relaxing Beckett's concern.

"Well, your temperature's been normal for well over twenty-four hours now, so the chances of it suddenly shooting up are rather remote. You're fit as a fiddle except for the weakness, and that will pass with a few days rest. I guess I could release you to your quarters. You are not to go anywhere but the mess hall for dinner tonight. After tonight, you can wander a bit, I suppose, but get plenty of rest and no running or fighting. Check back with me day after tomorrow and we'll see how you're getting on. Let me know if you have any problems."

Sheppard smiled. "Thanks, Doc. Where are my clothes?"

"I'll have the nurse bring them to you." He turned to leave just as McKay walked up to Sheppard's bed.

"Hey, Carson. How's our model patient?"

"I'm releasing him to his quarters. I've told him not to go anywhere but the mess hall tonight, so don't you be dragging him down to the lab."

McKay threw up his arms in mock self defense. "Okay, no lab. I just came to see how he was feeling." McKay shook his head as he walked the rest of the way over to Sheppard's bed. "What did you do to make him so grouchy?"

"I didn't do anything. It was probably seeing you." Thalan slid off the side of the bed and stretched as he smiled. He was almost free. Just a few more minutes and he would be out of here. He felt good, except for the weakness caused by the fever. The doctor was right, however, it was nothing a few days rest wouldn't fix. He was in no hurry for Sheppard to go back on duty. He wanted time to settle in and check things out.

"That was uncalled for."

It took Thalan a minute to catch up to what McKay was talking about. The man was getting annoying, yet he could be a source of information. He knew from Sheppard's thoughts about the banter they often shot back and forth.

"I just call them like I see them. He was in a good mood until you got here."

"Humph!" McKay plopped down in the chair next to the bed. "Keep insulting me and see if I walk you to the mess hall."

"I've been finding mess halls for almost half my life, McKay. I think I can find the one in Atlantis just fine."

They both turned as the nurse brought Sheppard's clothes. Thalan was almost shaking with excitement. He didn't have a few hours in which to kill Phoebus and then cease to exist, he had a lifetime in which to live and experience. He took the clothes and began to change.

McKay jumped up from the chair and began closing the curtain. "Jeez, Sheppard, what are you doing, putting on a peep show? Close the curtains for heavens sake. I thought you had more modesty than this."

Thalan was confused by the outburst. "It is nothing they haven't seen before and they do not have to look if they don't want to."

McKay stood with his back to Thalan. "Well . . . yeah . . . but still, you don't just start changing clothes in a room full of people."

Thalan pushed the anger back that he felt rising to McKay's accusatory tone of voice. He had to act like Sheppard. "Sorry, guess I wasn't thinking."

McKay's shoulders seemed to relax a bit. "Yeah, well, I guess it's just brain damage from the fever and the convulsions. It's a wonder you're not drooling and peeing your pants if the way you had Carson worried is anything to consider. I think you really scared him this time."

Thalan touched McKay's shoulder to let him know he was ready, causing him to jump. This Dr. McKay was very unusual, leaving him wondering why Sheppard would consider the man such a friend. It might be interesting to find out. He could feel Sheppard starting to strengthen again, but only mildly so. He was still no threat, so Thalan decided to use this time to do a little recon with the people who were close to Sheppard, starting with McKay.

"I'm ready. We can go now."

McKay turned and looked at him critically. "Are you sure you're up to this? I could get us a tray and meet you in your quarters."

Thalan shook his head. He'd been trapped, first by his situation with Phoebus, and then by his illness. Now that he was free, he wanted to get out and feel like it.

"I'm fine, McKay. Now let's get moving before I starve to death."

Beckett stopped them as they passed through the infirmary doors. "Don't forget Colonel, see me day after tomorrow. And I'd better warn you, it'll be several days before I clear you for duty. You really need to rest."

"Okay, Doc. I'll see you day after tomorrow. Come on, Rodney." Thalan hurried out the door before the doctor changed his mind.

Beckett stood in the door for a few moments, his mouth open slightly. He wasn't sure he'd ever gotten that kind of response from Sheppard when telling him he'd be off duty for several days. He had geared himself up for a fight, but hadn't even gotten so much as an objection. "Well, I'll be."

oOo

By the time they reached the mess hall, Thalan was beginning to understand Beckett's insistence that he stay in his room and rest. His muscles were beginning to feel heavy and achy and he was almost panting from the exertion. He could also feel a headache building and he knew it was Sheppard trying to fight his way back. He rubbed his forehead as he thought about how he needed to find a way to get rid of Sheppard for good.

"You okay?"

Thalan looked up to see McKay staring at him, worry furrowing his brow. He quickly moved his hand away from his face. "Yeah, I'm okay, just a little tired. I guess Carson knew what he was talking about when he told me not to wander around."

"I knew it. I should have brought you a tray to your quarters. We can go back . . . no, wait, that would mean a lot more walking. Maybe we should –"

"Rodney! It's okay, we're here now, so let's eat." Thalan walked into the mess hall and headed for the line. He needed to get his food and sit down before his legs gave out. He was beginning to wish Dr. McKay would leave – fending off his constant talking while trying to keep Sheppard at bay was sharply increasing his headache. Filling his tray, he quickly made his way to an empty table in the corner, wishing he'd lose McKay in the process.

"For someone who's tired, you sure are moving awfully fast. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to lose me."

"How astute," Thalan muttered. McKay either didn't hear him or chose to ignore him. He picked up his fork and began to eat, knowing that once he had finished the food, he would have a good excuse to go back to Sheppard's quarters alone. Then he could rest and plan his next move.

"May I join you gentlemen?" Elizabeth paused briefly before setting her tray down beside Thalan. He looked at her, taking in her features for the first time. Before, he had been concerned about her trying to kill him or so sick he didn't care. He took in her slight frame, soft hair, and gentle eyes. Suddenly he thought about how long it had been since he'd been with a woman. Stasis aside, war didn't leave much time for love and romance. He felt Sheppard begin to kick up in protest at his thoughts and wondered briefly if the colonel had feelings for the expedition leader. He sensed a deep friendship and fierce desire to protect, but beyond that, he couldn't tell.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Thalan was roused from his thoughts by her voice, realizing that she was now sitting next to him. He hadn't heard Rodney answer her or been aware of her taking the seat next to him. "Sorry . . . you like nice today."

Elizabeth tilted her head slightly as she frowned at him. "John, I look like I always do."

Thalan shrugged. "Maybe I'm starting to pay more attention," he said, winking at her before turning back to his food.

Elizabeth glanced across the table at Rodney, who had stopped chewing and was staring at Sheppard like he'd just grown a set of horns. It was at least reassuring to discover that she wasn't the only one taken aback by her second's comment. She chose to ignore it, hoping it was just a delayed reaction to the recent chain of events.

They ate in relative silence, Thalan lost in his thoughts so that he was unaware of the discomfort of pair beside him. He finished quickly and stood, preparing to leave. "I'm tired, so I'm going back to my quarters." He abruptly turned and left, leaving his tray sitting on the table between them.

Rodney and Elizabeth sat looking at the tray and then at each other. Rodney took a deep breath. "Is it just me, or is he off?"

Elizabeth frowned and chewed on her lower lip. "No, it's not just you. Something's . . . wrong."

"Maybe he just needs some time, you know, to get over everything. I know how freaky it is to have someone else in your head, but I can't imagine having that someone take over and make you hurt your friends. And then he was so sick . . . "

Elizabeth sighed as she looked at the door Sheppard had just passed through. "I hope you're right."

Finding Sheppard's quarters was relatively easy and once there, Thalan collapsed on the bed. His whole body seemed to ache with a deep exhaustion that went beyond anything he'd ever experienced and his head throbbed relentlessly. He could feel Sheppard trying to fight him and, although he wasn't posing a big problem yet, he knew it would get worse. He had connected with the pilot enough to realize that he would never give up and that could be a problem. But he was too tired to worry about that now. For now, he needed to rest. He kicked his boots off and rolled over on his side, pushing Sheppard deep inside his mind.

oOo

Thalan slept late the next morning, at least later than either he or Sheppard usually slept. He was surprised upon waking, but chalked it up to the weakness caused by the fever, and possibly from the constant battle with Sheppard. After showering, he decided he felt strong enough to investigate the city. He checked out the armory first, reveling in the array of weapons at his disposal. No one gave him a second look as he walked in, examined the weapons, and went over the inventory. He supposed they thought he was just checking up on his men and the supplies.

He went to the science labs next. He quietly peered into the various labs from the hall, not wanting to entertain questions about what he was doing. He wanted to get his own idea about the layout and the activity level of this section of the city, not completely trusting Sheppard's thoughts. He carefully watched for McKay, especially not wanting to fend off questions from him. Satisfied, he headed for the jumper bay.

He had to admit, the sight of the jumpers took his breath away. And with Sheppard's body, he would have the Ancient gene and the ability to pilot one. He relished the thought of soaring through the open sky in one of the ships. Running his hand along the outside of a jumper, he knew what he had to do. The minute an opportunity came up where they could take a jumper on a mission, he would dump the rest of the team and take the jumper for his own. A new body, a new life, and a new ship to take him where ever he wanted to go. Smiling, he patted the side of the jumper. "Not long now, baby."

"Sir, are you talking to the jumpers again?"

Thalan startled, looking around to see a soldier approaching him. He began to go into defensive mode until he saw the grin on the man's face.

"I keep telling you, sir, if you're going to talk to the jumpers, you'd better be more subtle about it. Not everyone understands the concept of talking to your ship. We don't want them hauling you off to the infirmary or something."

Thalan relaxed, unclenching his fist and rolling his shoulders forward. "I guess I just can't help it."

The young airman grinned. "Spoken like a true pilot. Did you need anything, Colonel Sheppard or are you just here to visit?"

Thalan smiled, thinking how easily he was slipping into Sheppard's role. "Just visiting. I was missing her a little."

"Don't worry, sir. I'm sure you'll be back in the saddle again soon."

Thalan frowned. "Back in the saddle?"

"Yes, sir. Surely you've heard that expression before."

Thalan had no idea what the man was talking about, but it was obvious he was supposed to. He tried unsuccessfully to access Sheppard's memories and draw some meaning from the phrase. Apparently this was not something Sheppard thought about much and was buried too deeply to access quickly, so he decided to play along.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I guess I just haven't heard that in a while."

"No problem. I guess I watched too many old westerns when I was growing up."

Thalan knew better than to comment on the reference to westerns, so he just nodded like he understood. It was definitely time to move on.

"Well, I guess I'd better get out of here." He nodded to the airman as he left the jumper bay, thankful that the man didn't try to make further conversation. Since he was close, he decided to visit the control room next.

A few minutes later, he stood in the doorway to Elizabeth Weir's office, watching her type on her laptop. The more he watched her, the more attracted he was. He felt stirrings within him that it seemed he hadn't felt in an eternity. He longed to touch her skin, to let his fingers glide slowly down her throat, to let his lips brush up against hers.

Sensing his presence, Elizabeth looked up. "Oh, John, I didn't hear you walk up. How are you feeling today?"

He noticed that she seemed nervous. As he moved away from the door frame and took a step in her office, a sharp pain surged through his temples. Sheppard was back and screaming at him to leave her alone. He bit his lip as he fought against the pain and Sheppard's protests. He wasn't backing down – he was in charge now.

"I'm good. I thought I'd drop by and see you." He flashed Sheppard's smile, counting on it to disarm Elizabeth as he moved closer to her.

She stood up, slightly nervous after the comment in the mess hall the day before. Sheppard didn't seem right, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what was wrong. "I'm just catching up on my reports. You know how it is."

Thalan continued to move closer until he was standing mere inches from her, making her exceedingly uncomfortable. She backed up a step, only to have him move forward, maintaining their close proximity. Her back to the book case, she looked up into his smug smile as she felt his breath on her face.

The pain stabbing through his temples was increasing with Sheppard's increased agitation as he screamed at Thalan to stop. "I think you work too hard, Elizabeth. Why don't you take a break?"

Elizabeth laughed nervously. "Are you suggesting I take one with you?"

"Who better? We could go out to the balcony and get a little privacy." Thalan pressed himself into her, wedging her in where she couldn't move. "What do you say?" He leaned forward and down, bringing his face closer to hers.

"John, this is not comfortable or appropriate. I would appreciate it if you would back up." Elizabeth could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her stomach was beginning to churn with fear. Her eyes darted to the windows in her office, furtively seeking help.

Thalan moved in tighter, until she could scarcely breathe, her head leaned back as far as it would go. She could feel the edges of the books pressing into her back as she fought the urge to scream.

"Don't fight it, Elizabeth, you know you . . . " Thalan's vision suddenly whited out with a flash as the pain in his head spiked. He moaned softly as he brought his hand up to his head and leaned heavily against Elizabeth.

"Dr. Weir, is everything all right here?" Major Lorne's sharp question filled Elizabeth with relief. She took the opportunity to push Sheppard away, causing him to stumble and almost fall. He caught himself on the back of the chair and used it to keep himself upright.

"John?" She stepped forward and grabbed his arm, trying to steady him. Lorne moved quickly into the room and stood behind Sheppard, his frown displaying his uncertainty at what was transpiring in the office. Sheppard opened his eyes as he moved his hand away from his face.

"Eliz . . . Eliza . . . " He grabbed his head with both hands and went down to his knees, groaning as he fell.

Elizabeth kneeled beside him and was aware of Lorne radioing for a medical team. She nodded at him to signal her thanks.

"John, it's okay. Carson's on his way."

John struggled to wrestle control from Thalan. He had managed to keep him from doing any harm to Elizabeth, but he couldn't seem to get enough control to warn her that Thalan was still there. He made one final push before being pushed back.

"Thalan . . . watch . . . No!"

Elizabeth watched as Sheppard seemed to struggle with himself before finally gasping and running his hand through his hair. He was wet with sweat and breathing heavily when Beckett arrived and kneeled on the other side.

"Colonel, what's wrong?"

Thalan had managed to regain control and he certainly did not want to return to the infirmary, but he would have to tell them something. His head still throbbed so bad he could barely think.

"Headache."

"Aye, I may have dismissed you too soon. Let's get you to the infirmary and take a look."

Thalan decided the best course of action at this point was probably to cooperate. He had a feeling he had blown it with Weir and now it was time for damage control. He just needed to convince them he hadn't been in his right mind. He could do the apology thing later and smooth things over.

"I don't feel so good, Doc."

Beckett and the nurse that had accompanied him helped Thalan to his feet. He was surprised to find his legs wobbly and if they hadn't been supporting him, he'd have fallen flat on his face. He leaned heavily against them as they helped him move toward the infirmary.

Lorne looked over at Elizabeth. "Are you okay? Because from my position it looked like –"

"Major Lorne, I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything just yet. Let me have a chance to hear what Dr. Beckett says. Colonel Sheppard is certainly not himself, but it may be with good reason."

Lorne nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I hope that's the case."

Elizabeth sighed. "So do I."

THE END . . . of part 4.


	5. Chapter 5

What's Left Behind – Chapter 5

Thalan felt better once he was in scrubs and lying down. But his head was still pounding and he felt sick. He knew he could blame it on Sheppard. He could feel the other man fighting for control. Pushing at him. And he was surprisingly strong. It was wearing Thalan down, but he would not allow it to continue. Still, pushing back weakened him.

He was so focused on keeping Sheppard at bay that it startled him when something pricked the back of his hand. If strong fingers hand been locked over his wrist and forearm, the skin on the back of his hand would have been torn from Beckett's attempts to insert an IV line.

"I don't need that!" Thalan growled, trying to pull his hand away. And in his head Sheppard was screaming _'My hand, you sonofabitch!' _Thalan tried to tune him out.

"I'm the doctor here!" Beckett shot back. He swabbed another spot then slid the needle home, smoothing a piece of tape over it to keep it in place.

Thalan had been distracted enough by his efforts at muffling Sheppard, to let it happen. The pain meds worked fast and he almost sighed in relief. Only to realize Beckett was still fussing over him, shoving that thermometer thing in his ear then clucking when it beeped and he studied it.

"Your temp is up again, Colonel," Beckett stated. "I'm going to pump you full of antibiotics again and catch things before they get worse. Hopefully. Your blood pressure is up as well, which I'm not too happy about."

Thalan wasn't happy about it either. He couldn't afford to be sick and weak again. He needed to get out of this place. He was about to ask Beckett how long before he was better again when a warm lethargy washed over him and Thalan realized he had been drugged. He wanted to scream in protest, but darkness claimed him.

OoO

Elizabeth waited a couple of hours before making her way to the infirmary. She kept reliving the moment when John had forced himself into her personal space. Nearly forcing himself on her. His eyes had been so cold then, so different from what she was used to. She kept telling herself that he was sick still, but a part of her was afraid it had been something else. Never before had Elizabeth felt afraid while in John Sheppard's presence, but today he had made her afraid.

Still, she made herself enter Carson's office and she was relieved to find him hunched over his desk. "Got a minute?" Elizabeth asked softly.

He looked up and seemed surprised to see her. "Doctor Weir, of course. Come sit." He gestured to the empty chair. "I imagine you've come to ask about Colonel Sheppard?"

"Yes." Elizabeth had to force her expression to remain composed and neutral. "How is he?"

"He's been better," Carson allowed. "His fever is up again, his BP as well. I've got him pumped full of fluids and antibiotics and he's sleeping right now. The rest will do him good."

Elizabeth felt a flutter of relief. He really was sick, at least physically. Now came the hard part. "Could his...illness...make him disoriented?" she blurted out.

Carson looked uncertain. "What do you mean?" he countered.

"He tried to hit on me in my office and he was rather...forceful...about it." Elizabeth didn't make eye contact as she spoke, but she could feel Beckett's gaze upon her. She could feel his shock.

"Are you all right?" Carson queried, after a long moment of horrified silence.

Elizabeth was quick to reassure him. "I'm fine. But it was...strange." She was replaying the memory in her head now and it didn't make sense in more ways than one. Not the least of which being that it was such an Un-Sheppard thing for him to do.

Carson touched her arm to get her attention back. "Strange how?" he prompted.

"Thinking back on it, when I was looking in his eyes, it was like it wasn't him," Elizabeth replied. "It was like looking into the eyes of a stranger." Reflexively, she shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself.

"I'm going to run some more tests then," Carson stated. "We'll figure this out."

Elizabeth nodded, wanting to believe him.

OoO

John slid out of darkness and into the light. So to speak. It was more like back into awareness. He remembered Beckett giving him a shot. Or rather them a shot. He had welcomed the relief from the pain. But now he felt the pain filtering back in and John knew the moment Thalan woke up. He wanted to scream in frustration. He had hoped for a chance to try and contact someone. He was worried about Elizabeth, worried about everyone.

He could feel Thalan laughing at him and John felt a wave of fury that seemed to startle the other man. Being. Whatever the hell he was. John wanted him out and he wanted him out now.

"Not going to happen, Sheppard," Thalan whispered.

John wanted to scream at him but he felt nothing but pain, white-hot and burning, distracting him from his focus as he faded back to black.

Thalan felt relief wash over him once Sheppard was taken care of. But it bothered him that the man had been conscious before he was.

"Colonel? How are you feeling?"

It was Beckett and Thalan was surprised to realize the man was fussing over him and he hadn't even noticed. He plastered a smile on his face and lied. "Much better. I'm a little fuzzy on why I'm here though." He could see Beckett was surprised by his words.

After checking the IV line, Carson said, "You've fallen ill again, although you do appear better now. Your temperature is back to normal, as is your BP. But I'm going to be keeping you under observation for another 24 hours. Just to be on the safe side."

That was the last thing Thalan wanted to here and he had to school his expression, Sheppard's expression, not to let his anger show. So he offered what he hoped was a tired smile and said mildly, "Guess I am a bit tired." He would rest while he had no choice, then he would make his way off of Atlantis. Thalan felt Beckett watching him so he let his eyes close and was surprised to find himself drifting off to sleep.

OoO

Elizabeth couldn't stay away from the infirmary. In spite of her uncertainties, she was worried about John. So she made another pit stop in Carson's office, only to discover he was checking on Sheppard. Elizabeth made her way over to the bed, taking note of how young and at peace John looked while asleep. At the same time she was glad she didn't have to face him just yet. She still felt confused about what had happened and she hoped Carson had an explanation for Sheppard's behavior.

Catching sight of her, Carson whispered, "Let's talk in my office." He led the way then closed the door, gesturing for her to take a seat.

"I'll stand," Elizabeth replied, as she leaned a hip against his desk. "How is John?"

"Better," Carson replied. "But I know what you're really asking. I finished the scans and I've checked the results of them and the other tests I ran. There's nothing. Although it is odd how he keeps having these Episodes so to speak. His recovery time from them is remarkable."

Elizabeth wasn't sure how she felt about the news. "Has he said anything about what happened?" 

Carson shook his head. "Only that the events of the past day are blurry to him. I have to say I believe him. He is worn out and what he did was so out of character that I'm leaning towards the incident happening because of his condition. He could easily have been disoriented and not aware of what he was doing."

"It certainly wasn't normal for him," Elizabeth allowed. She felt a bit better about it now. "I'm going to go sit with him for a while. She realized she needed to talk to him, to make sure of him again. So she nodded at Carson then headed back to John's bed. Dropping down into a nearby chair, Elizabeth set herself to wait for him to wake up.

Thalan dozed on and off, eventually becoming aware of a presence. He opened his eyes to find Elizabeth staring at him. She looked skittish and he remembered her fear in her office. He had come so close to blowing everything. Sheppard's fault. The man had deep feelings for her but had, obviously, never acted on them. Although Thalan realized he might have read them wrong. During his life it had been all about seizing the opportunity whenever it was presented to him. But what was past was past and Thalan knew he had to fix things in the present. Offering a smile he said, "Hey." Yeah, a standard Sheppard greeting.

Elizabeth stiffened in her seat then smiled back. "How are you feeling, John?"

"Better, but confused," Thalan replied. "I have a feeling I did something wrong, didn't I?" His words seemed to infuriate Sheppard who managed to scream at him again. And again and again. Thalan winced, bringing up a hand to scrub fingers hard across his forehead. It didn't help, so he lashed out at Sheppard, forcing him back into the recesses of his mind. Or, rather, Sheppard's own mind.

"John, are you all right?" Elizabeth was by his side, concern etched on her face.

He realized he could play this up. "I'm good, just a bit of a headache. Um, did I hurt you or something?

Elizabeth was shaking her head. "No, you just surprised me."

"Oh...I'm sorry." Thalan made it as sincere as he could.

"It's okay. You're going through a rough time right now." Elizabeth was relaxing, enough so to reach out and pat him on the arm. "Get some rest, John."

Thalan nodded. "I can do that." He watched her go then closed his eyes against the renewed ache in his head. He would have to find some way to silence Sheppard before the other man ruined everything.

OoO

Thalan managed to keep Sheppard tamped down. The effort left him with a lingering headache, but he was able to convince Beckett he was fine and he was released after the 24 hour observation period was up. First thing he did was head back to Sheppard's room for a shower. He then dressed in Sheppard's uniform, minus any weapons. He didn't need them just yet. Then Thalan headed for Weir's office.

He was glad to find her alone. "Got a minute?" he asked, with a grin.

"Sure." Elizabeth waved him in but she was staring at the open doorway.

Thalan made a point to leave the door open as he dropped down into the chair across from her desk. It was obvious she still didn't trust him, but it would be a moot point soon enough. "I'm going stir crazy," Thalan drawled, trying to affect Sheppard's ease. "I'd like to take a joy ride in one of the jumpers. Get some fresh air."

Elizabeth looked surprised, then she shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea, John. You're still recovering."

"Beckett cleared me." Thalan felt anger rising in him and he had to bite back a sharp retort. He was saved from losing it with her by McKay's timely arrival.

"There you are," Rodney said, poking his head in the door. He was staring at Sheppard. "Beckett said you're cleared."

Thalan nodded. "For light duty." Whatever the hell that meant.

Rodney grinned. "Having overheard your request to Elizabeth, I can safely say that flying me to the mainland would be considered light duty." He turned his attention to Weir, obviously ready to do battle to get his way.

Which Thalan was all for. If McKay could get him off of Atlantis and in a Jumper, he would go along with the plan.

Elizabeth wasn't going to make it easy though. "Rodney, I think it's best if Colonel Sheppard remain on Atlantis for the time being. Give him a chance to recover."

"I'm fine," Thalan interjected, then he stared pointedly at McKay.

Who got the hint. "I just need him to fly me to the mainland. He can do that sleeping, more or less." Rodney looked discomforted by the thought for a moment, then he focused again and rambled away. "Look, we'll be close by if something should happen. And I can always fly us back if necessary." He winced as he said that.

Elizabeth was hesitant, her eyes moving from McKay to Sheppard. Thalan willed her to agree. It would make it so much easier for all of them this way. "All right," she said finally. "But only if Beckett agrees."

"So call him," McKay prompted.

Thalan practically held his breath as she tapped her radio and had a very short conversation with the doctor. Then she was giving her permission and Thalan felt himself smiling. He went so far as to jump out of the chair and move to clap McKay on the shoulder. "Meet you in the jumper bay in ten minutes," he stated, then he was heading for Sheppard's room. Once there Thalan felt like shouting with delight. He was finally going to be free.

But he realized he had to focus and he had to move fast. Thankfully, Sheppard seemed to be out of the mix for the moment, tamped away and harmless. Thalan's headache had even receded. So he set about getting ready. He strapped on Sheppard's belt, complete with knife and thigh holster. He checked the gun and felt himself smiling. He could taste his freedom. Of course having McKay along wasn't part of the plan but Thalan could take care of that problem easily. Once they were off Atlantis he would kill the scientist them dump his body in the water. By the time anyone realized something was wrong, Thalan would be long gone. He would be living his new life in Sheppard's body. And he hoped that once he was away from Atlantis and the people here, that Sheppard's claim on his own body would fade away.

Right on time Thalan stepped into the jumper. He sat down and let Sheppard's subconscious awareness take hold. He knew how to fly this thing and he couldn't wait. Then McKay showed up and Thalan put up with his complaints with a smile. He would shut the man up permanently in just a few minutes. So the moment McKay was settled in the co-pilot's seat, Thalan made contact with Elizabeth and she sent them on their way.

He remembered flying and it was amazing, to the point where Thalan almost lost track of his purpose. Until McKay started talking and talking until Thalan's headache was back. "Shut up!" he snapped.

"What?" Rodney looked stunned.

"I said shut up!" Thalan put the jumper on auto pilot then rose from his seat. He moved towards the middle section of the jumper, reaching for the knife at his back. It was going to be a pleasure slicing McKay's throat. Much more satisfying that a bullet in his brain. But even as Thalan turned and made to approach McKay, he felt Sheppard stirring.

Without warning, Sheppard was fighting Thalan for control. Lashing out at him, causing the pain in his head to spike so hard it made him dizzy. And in that moment Thalan felt a sharp blaze of pain over his left wrist, Sheppard's wrist. He looked down and saw Sheppard's hand resisting his commands. Fingers that Thalan should have been in control of were tight on the knife hilt, forcing him to slice open Sheppard's flesh. He stared at the well of blood in disbelief. He heard Rodney's gasp, then McKay's voice saying Beckett's name before everything faded to black.

OoO

Elizabeth felt drained as she stared at Beckett and McKay, both of whom were on the other side of the hospital bed. Six hours ago Rodney and Sheppard had left to go to the mainland. Twenty minutes after that Rodney had called, frantic, telling them that Sheppard had just tried to kill himself. Elizabeth could still see the blood that had soaked both Rodney and John as they'd exited the Jumper, Sheppard on a stretcher, still and pale as a ghost.

He was still pale and still and Elizabeth willed him to wake up. But he didn't respond. She let her gaze travel over his wrists, one wrapped heavily in white gauze, both in padded restraints. She looked back up to meet Carson's worried gaze. "What's wrong with him?" she asked, although it felt more like a demand. The John Sheppard Elizabeth knew never would have done this. Not suicide. Not Sheppard.

Rodney was the one who replied, his hands rubbing together as if he were still scrubbing the blood off them. Sheppard's blood. "It just happened so fast," he whispered. "One minute he's telling me to shut up, the next he's slicing into his wrist so deep I thought he was trying to cut his hand off." Rodney gulped, eyes locked on the bandage on Sheppard's left wrist, going pale himself now. Then he cleared his throat to say, "This is bad, isn't it?" Rodney was glaring at Beckett now. "Fix him will you!"

"I would if I could, Rodney," Carson replied, looking tired and sad. "I don't know what's wrong with him." He looked at Elizabeth. "I do think it's time to get Dr. Heightmeyer involved. I think this might go back to events since we came to Atlantis."

"Post Traumatic Stress syndrome?" Elizabeth guessed. And a part of her really wanted it to be that easy. Easy for her anyway. This was going to be hell for John no matter what.

Carson simply nodded.

Elizabeth sighed. "Talk to Kate," she ordered, then asked, "Can I sit with him for a while?"

"Of course," Carson replied. "But don't let him out of the restraints, no matter what. And call me the minute he wakes up." That said, he grabbed Rodney by the arm and hauled him away, muttering something about sedatives and such.

Moving to the chair by the bed, ELizabeth slumped into it, her eyes locked on John's face. Even pale and still he was beautiful and it broke her heart to see him like this. Carefully she reached for his good hand. "Please be all right, " Elizabeth whispered. "I need you to be all right."

**The end of part 5**


	6. Chapter 6

Big, giant thanks for the wonderful reviews – I'm glad to see we're keeping you hopping.

What's Left Behind – Chapter 6

Sounds began to filter in, urging Thalan toward consciousness. He tried to lift his hand to his aching head, only to have it abruptly stop, sending waves of pain through his wrist. His eyes jerked open as he moaned and pulled up with both arms. Anger and pain swelled within as he saw the restraints holding his wrists to the bed. He pulled on his legs, only to discover that his ankles were also restrained.

"John, settle down. You're going to hurt yourself." Elizabeth appeared on his right and grabbed his forearm, pushing it down against his side.

Thalan relaxed back into the pillows. "Elizabeth?" He looked at the restraints, struggling to remember why he was in them. Had they figured it out? "What happened?"

Elizabeth's features were strained. Thalan wasn't sure if she was angry or worried. She turned to a nurse who was walking by the bed. "Could you tell Dr. Beckett that Colonel Sheppard is awake?" When the nurse nodded, Elizabeth turned back to Thalan.

"John, you tried to kill yourself on the jumper. You cut your wrist, very deeply. By the time Rodney got you back, you'd already lost a lot of blood." She sighed and looked away for a moment, as if trying to compose her thoughts. "I just want to know why? If things were so bad you thought you needed to kill yourself, why couldn't you come to one of us?"

"No, it wasn't me. You know me, I'd never do that." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew how ridiculous it sounded. It was all coming back in a jumble, his plan to take the jumper, the battle for control with Sheppard.

"John, you and Rodney were the only ones in the jumper. Rodney was frantic by the time he got you back. He was afraid you were going to die on the way. What are you telling me, that _he_ really did it, because if that's what you're saying, then you're even more messed up than I thought."

Thalan just stared at her. "That wasn't what I meant." How could he explain this? Hey, I'm Thalan and it was Sheppard slashing his wrist to keep me from killing McKay. Somehow he didn't think that was going to help.

Beckett picked that moment to make an appearance, walking up to stand on the other side of the bed from Elizabeth.

"Colonel? How are you feeling?"

Thalan looked up into Beckett's face, noticing how tightly drawn his features were. Beckett was not a happy man, which meant Thalan probably wasn't going to be either.

"I've been better. Can we take these off?" He pulled up against the restraints, the anger beginning to rise again.

Beckett shook his head. "No, not until we sort through what happened. You almost killed yourself and I'm not taking any more chances with your life. You're having problems, Colonel. You're behavior has been odd, to say the least, the last few days."

Thalan was trying to think. His head was throbbing, his arm hurt, and he was weak. He had come so close. If he could think of a way to kill Sheppard without killing himself, he would make that his main purpose in life.

"Colonel? Are you listening?"

Thalan looked back up at Beckett. "I don't know what's happening, but I don't want to kill myself. It's a mistake. I've been sick . . . it's made me feel . . . weird. I have no idea why this happened. I just want to get back to normal." Thalan hoped he was convincing. It was hard to tell, the way they were looking at him.

Beckett glanced at Elizabeth and, when she nodded, turned back to Sheppard. "Colonel, we want to talk to you about something. We've had a talk with Kate Heightmeyer about your situation and she'll be coming by to talk to you tomorrow. You've been through a lot since we first arrived in Atlantis, a lot more than you were prepared for. We think maybe everything has piled up to be too much for you to handle."

Thalan forgot for a moment they were talking to Sheppard and he frowned. "What are you trying to say?"

Beckett took a deep breath. "We suspect Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome."

Thalan felt Sheppard bristle at the accusation and, for once, he was in agreement. He knew instantly what they were talking about, which meant it was something Sheppard was very familiar with. "No, you don't know what you're talking about. Look, I'm fine now. Maybe I was still disoriented from the fever, but I'm not crazy and I don't need to talk to Kate."

Beckett grabbed Sheppard's forearms and stilled them. Thalan watched in fascination, having been totally unaware he was pulling against the restraints. Crap. "I am so screwed," he whispered.

Elizabeth put a hand on his shoulder and Thalan looked up at her. "John, we're only trying to help. We're concerned about you and we want to help you get better."

Thalan closed his eyes and laughed bitterly. "Then let me out of these. I can't stand to be tied up like this." He looked up first at Elizabeth and then at Beckett. "Look, I'll talk to Kate, I'll stay in bed, I'll be good. Just please . . . take these off."

Beckett just shook his head sadly. "I can't Colonel. Try to get some rest. You're still weak and you're temperature is starting to creep up again. I can give you something to help you relax if you like."

Thalan lifted one corner of his mouth in a bitter half smile. "I guess that would make it easy on everyone, wouldn't it? Drugged up and tied up. I'll pass if it's all the same to you."

"John – " Elizabeth began.

"Just go away." Thalan closed his eyes, hoping they would get the message, which they did. He heard movement, followed by silence. When he dared to open his eyes, he was alone. He had to think of a plan because this obviously wasn't working. He would have to escape and steal a jumper, but that would have to wait until he was stronger or he'd never make it. Sheppard had been strangely quiet since he woke up, making him wonder what the man was up to.

oOo

Thalan woke up to a darkened infirmary and realized it was very late. There was only one other patient and they were at the other end of the row of beds. He wasn't sure if they were trying to give him privacy or protect the other patient from him. He was rather surprised to discover that his headache was gone and found he had to concentrate to find Sheppard. He was still there, but so still and quiet. Could it be that he was finally dying, going away to leave Thalan with this body? Thalan smiled, certain that he was about to win. He looked up to see a nurse approach his bed.

"Colonel, you're awake? You should be sleeping. Can I get you something?"

"Actually, if you could let me go to the bathroom, I'd be really grateful."

The nurse looked down at her feet. "I'm sorry, sir. I can't let you out of the restraints."

Thalan fought the anger that threatened to erupt. "So, I just have to lie here needing to pee the rest of the night? Is this a new torture technique you guys are perfecting?"

"Uh, no sir, uh . . . I can help you with the bedpan."

Thalan pasted on his best smile. "I have an idea. Why don't you get the guard to accompany me? There is a guard posted, right?"

"Yes, sir, there is a guard. I guess that would be okay." She turned and hurried off to get the guard.

The nurse returned a few minutes later with the guard in tow. She loosened the restraints so that Thalan could get up. The nurse steadied him when he stood, and although he had almost pushed her away, in the end he was glad he didn't. He was a little surprised at how dizzy he was at first. He started to walk towards the bathroom when the nurse pushed the IV pole in front of him.

"You'll have to roll this along with you, Colonel. Dr. Beckett says you still need the IV."

Thalan looked annoyed, but grabbed the pole and pushed it along in front of him all the way to the bathroom. When they reached the door, he turned to the guard. "Do you want to come in and watch?"

The guard widened his eyes. "Oh, no, sir. I'll just wait out here."

Thalan slipped into the bathroom, smiling at the young soldier's discomfort at guarding his commanding officer, not to mention escorting him to the bathroom to pee. He was surprised at how good he was beginning to feel, now that he was on his feet and seemed to be rid of Sheppard. He was still weak, but he was definitely starting feel better. As he washed his hands, he realized that he would probably never have another opportunity like this. He figured they were about to find him out and the way things were going, he would be stuck in the infirmary until it was too late. He had to escape.

"Sir, are you okay?"

Thalan looked back towards the door. "Uh, yeah. I'll be right out." He stepped toward the door as he formulated a plan. Before going out, he removed the IV needle from the back of his hand and held it in such a way that the guard would not be able to see. He then opened the door and walked out.

As he passed in front of the marine, he stopped and began swaying as if he was about to pass out. The guard reached out to steady him, and Thalan swung the IV pole around, hitting the soldier forcefully across the chest. With a grunt, the marine slammed into the wall behind him and then slid down into the floor. Thalan leaned over and grabbed his gun and then ran for the door to the infirmary. Peering out and seeing no one, he slipped into the hall as he heard the nurse frantically trying to rouse the unconscious guard. That was entirely too easy. These people had too much compassion, too much trust.

Reaching the end of the hall, he turned left and headed toward the jumper bay. His best bet was to grab a jumper as quickly as possible and get out. Clothes could be gathered later. He continued to hurry down the dark, quiet halls, carefully edging around corners. Easing himself into the jumper bay and seeing no one, he bolted for the ship that held the promise of freedom. He was halfway there when he felt the cold sting of a stunner and felt himself falling.

oOo

Elizabeth raced into the infirmary and almost ran into two marine guards standing at the door. They backed away from her, eyes wide in surprise.

"Sorry, Ma'am," stammered one of the young men.

"No, it's me who's sorry. I should have been paying more attention."

The guard nodded and smiled. "Dr. Beckett is over there with Colonel Sheppard." He pointed to a bed at the far end of the infirmary.

"Thank you," said Elizabeth, heading for the bed where the young man had pointed. She recognized Sheppard's form as she got closer and saw that he was unconscious and back in restraints. Carson stood on one side of the bed, while a nurse stood on the other.

"Carson, what happened?" she asked when she was to the foot of the bed.

Beckett sighed and shook his head. "He got Katie, the new girl, to release him to go to the bathroom with the guard watching. When he came out, he knocked the guard out and ran for it. When we called it in on the radio, the guard in the jumper bay saw him and hit him with a stunner. We were lucky, Elizabeth. He was moments away from being gone in a jumper."

Elizabeth was stunned. "A jumper? Where was he going?"

Carson shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea. He hasn't regained consciousness yet."

Elizabeth frowned as she looked down at Sheppard, his face still pale from the blood loss when he slit his wrist. What was happening, why was he doing this? She wanted so badly to reach out and help him, but she had no idea what to do. She was getting frightened. What if they had to send him back to earth? What if they couldn't help him here in Atlantis?

A moan caught her attention. She noticed Carson and the nurse both focus in on John and she moved closer to the bed. She could see his eyelids starting to flutter. Please let us help you, she thought.

John opened his eyes to see Elizabeth standing beside his bed, looking down at him with an expression somewhere between hurt and sympathy. Suddenly his heart began pumping violently in his chest as he realized that he was in control and could warn them.

"Elizabeth, Thalan's not . . . " Agonizing pain shot through his head as Thalan once again began to fight him. No, he wouldn't give up. He'd been saving his energy for this moment, for a time to break free and tell the others what was happening. He couldn't lose this chance. He gasped for air, feeling like someone had punched him in the gut.

"John, take it easy. Carson, what's wrong with him?" Elizabeth watched as John struggled to tell her something while trying to catch his breath. His eyes were squinted in obvious pain and his hand gripped the blanket, trying to find the strength to continue.

"Thalan's not . . . gone . . . still here . . . Trying to . . . fight him." John gasped for air until Beckett finally placed an oxygen mask over his face. He breathed deeply, trying to draw in enough oxygen. If felt like Thalan was somehow strangling him, but that was ridiculous, since that would kill Thalan too.

He felt Elizabeth take his hand and he opened his eyes, until then unaware he had let them close. She looked down into his eyes as if searching, as if trying to see if was really him. He needed her to know that it was him and that he wasn't crazy. "Help me," he whispered from under the mask.

Elizabeth squeezed his hand, trying to reassure John. He looked almost panicked and she wanted him to know that she understood, that she would help him. She wasn't sure she really knew what was going on, but she knew that he needed to feel safe if he was going to get through this. And his eyes. She couldn't help but think that those were the eyes of John Sheppard and it was the first time she'd been sure of that in several days.

The pain in John's head suddenly exploded as the battle between him and Thalan began and John was pretty sure this match was winner take all. He wasn't aware that he grunted in pain as his eyes rolled back in his head and body stiffened.

It only took a second for Beckett to realize what was happening. "He's having a seizure – remove the restraints," he called to the nurse. They fought to get the restraints loosened as John's body jerked in uncontrolled spasms. When the convulsions finally seemed to slow, he suddenly launched himself to the side. The nurse tried to catch him, but the movement was so sudden and forceful that it knocked her over and she landed hard on the floor with John lying across her.

Beckett called to the two marines standing beside the door to help. They stood there a second with their mouth gaping open, before hurrying over to help the doctor pick John up and get him back on the bed. The spasms had stopped completely and he was still and quiet, except for the slow rise and fall of his chest showing that he was still breathing.

Beckett helped the stunned nurse to her feet. "Are you all right?"

"Uh, yes, doctor, I'm fine. Just hurt my pride a bit, if you know what I mean."

Beckett nodded and smiled briefly at her. "Okay, lass, if you're sure you're okay. Let's start checking the Colonel's condition."

As the nurse began fussing over John, Carson turned to Elizabeth. "I'll need to ask you to leave until we get him settled. You can wait in my office if you like."

Elizabeth nodded, too shocked to speak. She took one last look at John and then slowly made her way to Carson's office. She dropped into the chair closest to the door to wait.

John said that Thalan was still there. The thought had crossed her mind more than once the past few days, but she had dismissed it. Phoebus was gone from her and so she had known that Thalan must be gone from John. How could he still be there? And yet, it would explain so many things. It would explain why his eyes looked like those of a stranger. It would explain the odd behavior, the things that were so out of character for John Sheppard. But if Thalan was still there, how could they get rid of him? How could they get John back? And if they did get John back, how would they know it was John? She rubbed her hand across her forehead. This was entirely too complicated.

She was still sitting, lost in thought, when Beckett finally walked into his office and almost fell into his chair. He rubbed his face with his hands and sighed deeply.

"Carson?"

He finally let his arms drop and looked at Elizabeth. "He's in a coma, completely unresponsive. His vitals have dropped down extremely low and his temperature is back up. I have no idea what's going on or what to do about it, except just wait it out."

"He said Thalan was still there. Is that possible?"

Beckett shrugged. "I don't know. I guess that is one possibility. It's also possible that if he _has_ had some kind of breakdown, that he just thinks Thalan is still there."

Elizabeth nodded, reluctantly admitting the possibility that John was just in the middle of a mental breakdown. "What do you think it is?"

Carson sat thinking for a minute before replying. "I would tend to lean toward the breakdown theory if wasn't for the physical illness. His yo-yoing fever and other symptoms would seem to point more toward a problem with Thalan's possession. Although I have seen mental illness manifest itself in physical symptoms before, it's highly unusual for it to occur to this degree."

"But why would Phoebus leave me at the appointed time and Thalan not leave John? I thought it was automatic, that they had no control over it."

"They don't have control." He sat thinking for a minute before snapping his finger. "The fever. Colonel Sheppard had that infection in his arm that produced a fever and made him sick. Maybe that somehow interfered with the process."

Elizabeth nodded. "Well, since I don't understand how any of this works, that makes as much sense to me as anything. But if all of this is true and Thalan is still in John, then how do we get John back?"

Beckett looked at her blankly. "I have no idea."

The end . . . of part 6.


	7. Chapter 7

What's Left Behind - Chapter 7

"It's been four days, Carson. I need to know something."

He could hear the worry in her voice and it made heart beat a little faster. He was slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. He could feel the IV in the back of his hand and, yeah, there was a catheter. He could hear the heart monitor and feel the leads attached to his chest. He could feel the blood pressure cuff on his upper arm.

"I know Elizabeth, I know. I can't tell when he'll wake up, but his vital signs are stronger today than they have been since the seizure, so I'm pretty sure he will wake up at some point."

And then he could feel the soft padding on the inside of the restraints. His stomach clenched in fear for a moment until he reminded himself that they didn't know. They thought he was still Thalan. He concentrated on relaxing himself, on not panicking, even though that was what the restraints made him want to do.

"That's the best news you've been able to give me in a while, so I suppose I should just be grateful for that. I don't guess you know who'll be there when he wakes up, John or Thalan?"

The answer was given so softly that he couldn't hear what was said. It was then that he realized his eyes were open and he was looking at the ceiling. He eased his head to the side to see privacy curtains surrounding his bed. They were standing just on the other side, still talking, but now in hushed whispers that he could no longer hear. He wanted to join the party.

"Hey," he tried to call out, but was surprised when it came out a garbled groan. The result was the same as the one he was trying to achieve, however. Carson and Elizabeth hurried around the curtain to his bedside.

Carson tried to smile down at him, but it didn't carry the desired effect. It was too forced and unnatural. "Colonel, how do you feel?"

Sheppard cleared his throat. "Wiped out." That was all he could think of. How do you tell someone you are so tired and completely exhausted that you can barely blink. Too many words and no energy to relay them. He wasn't sure he remembered ever feeling so totally washed out.

"Are you in pain?"

And then Sheppard realized that the intense pain and struggle in his head was gone. It was quiet. No headache, no voices, no power struggle. Just . . . normal. Relief washed over him like a wave and he rode it like a surfer on the crest of a century. He was free from Thalan.

A nurse stepped in beside the bed and handed Beckett a cup, which he immediately fished an ice chip out of and held to Sheppard's mouth. Sheppard gratefully took it, hoping it would help clear his throat. "He's gone. Thalan's gone."

Elizabeth and Carson looked at each other briefly before she looked back down at the pilot. "So . . . you're John?"

Sheppard gave a small smile. "Yeah, finally."

Elizabeth wanted to believe the relief on the face of the man before her was real, but she couldn't trust him, not yet. Not after the events that had just played out over the last few days. "I'm sorry John, but we have to keep you in restraints for now, until we're certain."

Sheppard could feel the pull of sleep, his eyelids already starting to droop. He wanted to talk, to tell them what had happened and how hard he had fought against Thalan, but he was too exhausted. "Know . . . spected it." There was so much he needed to tell them, but he finally gave in to the encroaching darkness. He didn't see the doubtful look they exchanged as he drifted off to sleep.

oOo

Sheppard's eyes popped open and he immediately tensed up, pulling on the restraints. Their presence frightened him at first, not realizing why he couldn't move. Lifting his head from the pillow, he spotted them and the memory of where he was and why came flooding back. He had been dreaming of fighting with Thalan, but it had been a physical fight, bloody and painful, and he had been losing. Lying back against the pillows, he forced his arms to relax down by his sides as he took a deep breath.

"Colonel?"

He jumped at the sudden sound, jerking his head to look at the presence in the chair beside his bed.

"Jeez, McKay, you scared the crap out of me." He lay his head back and closed his eyes for a second, taking another deep breath to calm himself. He had already started the running commentary in his head about not pulling against the restraints and how it would take time to gain everyone's trust.

McKay looked down, uncertainty in his face. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

Sheppard narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at the slumping form in the chair. "That's it? You aren't going to insult me or make some sarcastic jab or, at the very least, run on about some topic I could care less about? Who are you and what have you done with Rodney?"

McKay's eyes flickered back up at him and the light he had expected was not there. The humor he had intended had floundered where it sat and been dumped unceremoniously on the floor. His earlier elation at being free from Thalan was starting to flounder as well.

"It was a joke, McKay. You know – ha, ha."

Silence.

"O-kay, so it was a bad joke."

McKay was staring at him and he was getting decidedly uncomfortable and, unfortunately, having to fight the pull of sleep again. He had been lucid more quickly, but the exhaustion was still there, relentlessly tugging at him as he fought off a yawn.

"Could you at least tell me why you tried to kill yourself in the jumper . . . right in front of me? Or are you going to tell me that was Thalan too?"

Sheppard sighed and closed his eyes. Dang. Trump card. "No, that was me," he said quietly, looking up at the ceiling. He forced himself to look at McKay. "Rodney, Thalan was planning on killing you and stealing the jumper. I had to stop him and that was all I could do. I had this brief moment of partial control and it was the only way I could keep him from killing you. I couldn't have lived with that – ever."

McKay's face had drained of color as he jaw went slack and he remembered the events of that day. Fear flowed through him, raw and painful, as he realized how close he came to dying. It made sense now, Sheppard, or rather Thalan, screaming at him to shut up, anger and hate filling his voice and expression. Sheppard had saved him, yet again, at great personal cost.

"He was . . . going to kill me?"

"I'm sorry. I screamed at him to stop over and over and he just wouldn't listen. All he cared about was getting the jumper and getting away. I know it was shocking to see, but it was the only way. I couldn't get enough control to do anything else." Sheppard sighed and looked back up at the ceiling. "I just wasn't strong enough."

"But you could have died."

"And if I hadn't done it, you _would_ have died. I couldn't live with that Rodney. I couldn't risk that happening. I'm sorry if you don't understand or if you don't approve, but if we went back in time, I'd do it again."

"No, it's not that. I was just thinking though . . . if you had died, we would never have known why. We would have thought you just lost it and killed yourself." McKay shuddered at the thought of how close events had come to playing out just that way. He looked at Sheppard and met his eyes. He looked long and hard. "Thanks."

"So, do you think I'm me or do you think I'm still Thalan, or do you just think I'm crazy?"

McKay finally grinned. "I think you're you, at least right now. I'm just afraid he's still in there somewhere."

Sheppard sighed. This was going to be the hard part. "He isn't. He's gone for good."

"How do you know?"

"I can feel it. You just have to trust me on this." He was expecting the skeptical look he got from McKay, but it didn't make it hurt any less. He had a bad feeling that his troubles were only just beginning.

oOo

Sheppard yawned and instinctively tried to bring his hand up to his mouth. A moment of barely awake confusion was followed by the heaviness of understanding. He was still restrained. He opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, having no idea how long he'd been asleep. A few changes had taken place as he slept. The heart monitor and blood pressure cuff had been removed, which indicated his condition must be improving. Noting that his limbs felt sore and stiff, he tried to stretch, a feat very much hindered by the restraints holding his wrists and ankles. He pulled against them as far as he could without hurting, trying to work the kinks out of his cramped muscles.

"Colonel, what are you doing?"

He stopped and looked up into the nervous face of Carson Beckett. "Trying to relieve a bit of muscle cramping. How long have I been tied down, anyway? Every muscle in my body aches right now."

"You woke from the coma three days ago and, even though you've mostly slept, we've kept the restraints on as a precaution. After your escape we thought it best to be extra cautious this time. I hope you understand."

Sheppard sighed. "Well, I may understand, but that doesn't help my muscles feel any better."

Beckett nodded and tried to look sympathetic. "How do you feel other than that?"

"Not bad, actually. I'm still a bit tired, but not like I was before. I'm getting hungry, too. What are the chances of getting food?"

"Quite good, Colonel, you definitely need to eat. I'll send out for some broth and maybe a few crackers. You'll have to start slow since you haven't eaten in a while."

"Carson, do you think we could rid of the catheter? It's very uncomfortable."

"Let me send someone after your tray and I'll take care of that. I'll be back in a minute."

Sheppard watched the doctor slide out between the curtains and concentrated on telling himself to be calm and not panic. They would soon realize that he was John and that Thalan was gone for good. They would trust him again and remove the restraints. He had to believe that. In the meantime, the best thing he could do was to just be calm and wait patiently. Too bad patience wasn't exactly one of his virtues.

Beckett returned a few minutes later and closed the curtains behind him. After donning a pair of gloves he went to pull down the covers. John felt his heart rate increase.

"Doc . . . you gonna leave me tied up?"

Beckett looked slightly embarrassed. "Orders, Colonel. You remain in restraints unless it's essential to remove them."

Sheppard closed his eyes as Beckett pulled his gown back and removed the catheter. He had always assumed there wasn't much that could top the humiliation of having a catheter removed until now. Try doing it while tied down. He was willing the ground to open up and swallow him when he felt Beckett replace the gown and then the covers.

"You need to breathe, Colonel. You're going to suffocate yourself."

John let out a deep breath and opened his eyes, discovering that he had a death grip on the bedrails. He so wanted this to be over. This was so much harder than recovering from physical injuries. The physical pain wasn't really there any more, but the mental pain was eating him up inside. He wasn't sure how long he could do this.

"Are you all right, son?"

John looked up into Beckett's eyes, trying to read his expression. "I thought I was. Now . . . I'm not so sure."

It was John talking to him and it was John they were restraining right now, of that Beckett was certain. The eyes, the mannerisms, the behavior all betrayed who you were dealing with when you were paying attention. The danger came when you got comfortable and quit paying attention and that was what they were afraid of. Unfortunately that didn't make him feel any less guilty for the way they were treating a man who had become his friend over the course of the last year and a half.

"Colonel . . . John, I know this is very difficult for you. It's not that we don't trust you, it's that we don't trust our ability to recognize when Thalan returns. Rodney told me what you said about Thalan trying to kill him. We can't take a chance on him getting loose in the city. He's already proven he can be deadly."

"He's _gone_, Carson. I promise you he is gone for good. He was in my head, for heaven's sake, I can tell when he's here and when he's not here and he's _not here_!"

Sheppard didn't realize that his voice has slowly been rising in volume or that he had begun pulling violently against the restraints until Beckett pushed his hands down to his sides.

"You've got to calm down or you'll never get out of those things."

Sheppard went limp against the bed and closed his eyes in defeat. He wasn't winning this round.

"I'm sorry John, I really am." Beckett took a tray from the nurse. "Your broth is here."

Setting the tray down, Becket pushed the rolling table over Sheppard's lap and raised the head of the bed. Sheppard opened his eyes and stared at the bowl of broth and package of crackers on the table. He turned his face glumly from the table to look at the curtain around his bed. "I can't eat tied up and I'm not letting anyone feed me, so just take it away. I've lost my appetite anyway."

Beckett stood silently by his bed for several moments while Sheppard continued to ignore him. "Colonel, my orders are to keep you in restraints unless it is necessary to release you for a specific purpose. Since you cannot eat with the restraints on and it is my medical opinion that it is important for you to eat, I think that means we will have to remove them long enough for you to finish your soup."

Sheppard slowly turned his head back to face Beckett. "You . . . you'd do that?"

Instead of answering, Beckett reached over and unfastened one of the bindings. Sheppard quickly released the other arm and then rubbed his wrists, pulling his arms protectively up to his chest. He sat unmoving for several seconds until Beckett finally tapped him on the shoulder.

"Colonel, are you all right? You really do need to eat."

John nodded his head. "Yeah, these just . . . they make me . . . usually when I'm tied up it's so I can be beaten or tortured. It just makes me kind of anxious and jumpy to be held down like that."

Oh crap! Beckett hadn't considered that and he should have. He was beginning to feel like the bad guy in this whole scenario and he wasn't liking it. "Colonel, I'm going to open the curtains while you eat and go call Elizabeth. Maybe we can work something else out. I'm beginning to understand your reluctance at being restrained a little better."

Sheppard picked up his spoon and lowered it into the bowl, the spoon clinking lightly against the bowl as a tremor passed through his hand. His hand shook slightly as he raised the spoon to his lips, struggling to keep the broth from spilling. Beckett felt a cold spot form in the pit of his stomach. What were they doing? He left Sheppard and went to his office for some privacy.

"Elizabeth, this is Carson. I need to talk to you."

The radio crackled a few seconds later. "Carson, what's up?"

"I think we need to talk about what we're doing to Colonel Sheppard."

Caldwell's voice came over the radio, loud and clear. "Dr. Beckett, you should address any and all questions about Colonel Sheppard to me. This is a military matter."

Beckett sputtered for a moment. "Colonel Caldwell? I thought you were on your way back to earth."

"We came back when we received Dr. Weir's report about recent events, in case things escalated and you needed help. The protocol you were given about handling Colonel Sheppard is what I have decided is the safest way to handle the situation. I take it you have a problem with it."

"Yes, I bloody well do. Maybe you should come down here and have a look at the human element in this, because I don't think he's faring so well. There's two guards posted, Colonel Sheppard is back in control and assures me that Thalan is gone, and I don't see the need for the restraints."

There was a brief pause and Beckett prayed the man was giving his suggestion consideration. His prayers were short-lived.

"Dr. Beckett, I know you'd like to think that Thalan is gone and Colonel Sheppard is in full control now, but we can't know that for certain. He will remain in restraints unless absolutely necessary until further notice, is that clear?"

Heartless bastard. "Yes, Colonel, I understand. I do have one question for you. Have you ever been held by the enemy and tied down so they could torture you?"

After another pause, Caldwell' angry voice came over the radio. "That's completely irrelevant, Doctor and none of your business."

Beckett smiled tightly. "That's what I thought. Maybe you should try it some time. Colonel Sheppard has on several occasions while protecting this city and her people." Beckett clicked the radio off, not wanting to hear anything else the man had to say. He laid his radio on the desk and went back to Sheppard's bed. Standing a few feet away, he watched the man dip out the last of his soup, meticulously trying to get every drop. It looked more like an activity to occupy him than one born of true hunger. Beckett sighed and walked the remaining steps to the bed.

"It's okay, Doc, I heard. Thanks for trying. Can I go pee and get a shower before you lock me back up?"

"Well, I'd say those are needed activities for your recovery and you certainly can't do them in restraints. I think we can manage that. Just a second and I'll get a clean gown."

"Doc . . . could I get scrubs?"

The hope in Sheppard's eyes almost finished Beckett off. His stomach tightened as he looked at the floor. "Standing orders are for you to remain in a gown. Caldwell thinks it would make escape . . . more difficult."

"Oh. Can I at least have –"

"Gown only, Colonel."

Sheppard's face reddened, although whether it was from anger or embarrassment or some combination of the two, Beckett couldn't be sure. Right at this moment in time, he hated his job.

Sheppard took a deep breath, telling himself to suck it up and handle this. It wasn't Carson's fault and the man was obviously struggling with his orders. No need to make his life more complicated and knowing Caldwell, he'll probably do a surprise inspection to make sure his orders were being followed. Sheppard would play the game for now, but he was really beginning to tire of it.

"Okay, Doc, let's do it before he comes down here and ties me up himself. If I'm to be humiliated at every turn, I at least want to be clean." He mustered all his courage and gave Beckett a big grin.

Beckett smiled back at him, thankful for being let off the hook. "Just give me moment and we'll have you to that shower. And for being such a good patient, I'll even remove the IV."

"Now you're talking."

oOo

John felt better after the shower and even managed to relax enough to joke with Beckett, but the effort used all his energy and he was asleep almost as soon as he was back in bed. Beckett felt like his patient was doing well enough he could go back to his quarters and get a few hours sleep.

John awoke in the early hours of the morning with his heart thumping in his chest, his gown wet with sweat, and his arms pulled tight against the restraints. "No!"

"Colonel, it's okay. It's just a dream, you need to wake up now."

He opened his eyes to find one of the nurses peering down at him, her eyes wide with fear and worry. He realized where he was and fell back against the pillows, dropping his arms limply to his side. Concentrating on his breathing, he tried to slow his frantic respirations. "It's okay, I'm awake now."

The nurse proceeded to take his pulse and blood pressure and record them. "Everything's a wee bit high, Colonel. You need to try and relax."

Sheppard chuckled. "I think you've been around Dr. Beckett too long."

The nurse frowned for second until she thought back on what she'd said, then she joined him with a soft chuckle of her own. "I can't believe I just said that. You can't tell anyone, I'll never live that down."

"It'll be our secret."

"Can I get you anything?"

Sheppard nodded. "Well, now that you mention it, I could use a trip to the little boy's room."

The nurse smiled and nodded. "No problem, but I have to get the guard. I'll be right back."

Sheppard nodded. The nurse returned in a few seconds with one of the guards posted at the door. Sheppard recognized him as the kid that Thalan had knocked out with the IV pole. The soldier glared down at him, contempt written all over his face.

"Uh, I think I owe you an apology. I need you to know that it was Thalan that hit you, not me, but I'm sorry I couldn't stop him. I'm glad to see that you're okay."

The soldier just continued to glare, making Sheppard very uncomfortable. "Did the nurse tell you I need to go to the bathroom?"

He narrowed his eyes at Sheppard. "She told me, but I make it a habit not to fall for the same trick twice. You're not getting out of those restraints. The nurse can help you use the bedpan."

The nurse looked from the young soldier to Sheppard and then back to the soldier. "You're kidding, right?"

After a few seconds of silence, Sheppard replied without breaking eye contact with the young marine. "No, he's not kidding. He's getting his revenge."

"Not revenge, _sir_, just following safety protocol. You are not to be released from those restraints unless it's absolutely necessary. You going to the bathroom to avoid using a bedpan is not absolutely necessary. Go ahead nurse. I'll keep watch in case he tries anything."

The nurse flushed. "Uh, I don't think that's a good idea. I can handle it. You can go back to your station by the door."

The soldier smiled. "No, I think I'll play it safe and watch. Get the bedpan and help him, _right now_."

Sheppard had never heard a more obvious display of contempt and disrespect and he'd been around quite a few in his day. This kid was going to learn the meaning of humiliation if he ever got out of this – which he was seriously beginning to doubt.

oOo

Beckett carefully approached Sheppard's bed, watching the pilot stare at the ceiling. The nurse had been waiting for him, almost in tears as she told him the story of what the guard had made her do and that Sheppard had lain awake, staring at the ceiling the rest of the night.

"Good morning, Colonel."

"Get Caldwell down here," he demanded, his eyes never leaving the ceiling.

Beckett sighed heavily. "All right. For what it's worth, I'm sorry about what happened. I should never have left."

"Not your fault, Carson. You might want to get Elizabeth too."

Fifteen minutes later, Elizabeth and Colonel Caldwell walked into the infirmary. Elizabeth looked grim and Caldwell just looked smug as they made their way to Sheppard's bed, where Beckett stood.

"Colonel Sheppard, I understand you wanted to see me."

Sheppard finally moved his eyes down to meet Elizabeth's briefly before moving on to Caldwell.

"I have to give it to you, Colonel Caldwell, you and your bunch could give out lessons on how to humiliate prisoners to most of the bad guys I've been captured by. Consider yourself applauded. That said, I want to be moved to a cell where I can receive more humane treatment. Even our Wraith prisoners are treated better than this. I want clothes, I want to be able to pee by myself, and I want to be able to stretch a few cramps out of my muscles if that's even still possible. I also want some idea of how long you plan to keep me locked up on the off chance Thalan comes back. Is there a time schedule to this or is it just until Stargate Command decides to appoint a replacement for me? By the way, have any candidates in mind for my job, since that seems to be where we're headed with this?"

Caldwell stood with his mouth slightly agape for a few seconds while Carson and Elizabeth silently applauded.

"Are you suggesting I'm only doing this to get your job, because I resent that implication."

"I don't really give a rat's ass what you resent at this point. When being a prisoner in Afghanistan is looking better than staying in Atlantis, things have gone too far. Elizabeth, I'm asking you to file a petition with Stargate Command for me requesting that I be treated humanely and given some kind of recourse for the punishment now being inflicted. I need a way out of this and I need one now. I need to know that this isn't all that's left for me. I've got to tell you, I'm wondering if I shouldn't have aimed the knife a little deeper."

Beckett and Elizabeth both flinched and even Caldwell looked mildly embarrassed. "Dr. Weir, that won't be necessary. Maybe . . . maybe we have been a little overly aggressive with the safety precautions. Dr. Beckett, have you seen any sign of Thalan since the Colonel has regained consciousness?"

"No sir, I'm relatively certain that it's been Colonel Sheppard the whole time."

Caldwell hesitated, as if thinking. "How long would you want to keep Colonel Sheppard in the infirmary to make sure he as sufficiently recovered?"

"He's progressing well, but he's still a bit weak. I'd like to do a few more tests and observe a while longer to make sure the prolonged fever and the seizures have not caused any permanent damage. Maybe two more days."

Caldwell had to admit that he was a bit impressed by the way Sheppard had finally found a way to take control of his situation. He wouldn't have put up with treatment like that from his own people very much longer himself. "Colonel, this is what I suggest. You stay in the infirmary for two more days under Dr. Beckett's care. You will have two guards posted at all times, but we can suspend the restraints. If Dr. Beckett's opinion at that time is that you are John Sheppard and Thalan is indeed gone, you can be released to your quarters with a guard. At that point we'll discuss it and decide how long you are to remain off duty and under surveillance. I will warn you that you will not be allowed to go around the city freely or go back on active duty until I am completely convinced that Thalan is gone."

Sheppard considered the plan briefly, but had to admit that it sounded fair. "Can I have scrubs? Have you ever actually worn one of these gowns?"

Caldwell finally smiled. "Yes I have, Colonel, and yes, you can have scrubs. I guess I owe you that much. I just heard about what happened last night and even I didn't sanction such a thing. He'll be dealt with, I assure you."

"I can live with that arrangement for now."

Sheppard grinned. Yeah, in time that kid would be dealt with in the Sheppard way. John knew he wasn't out of the woods yet, but it was certainly better than what he had been dealing with the last few days. At least he would be treated like a human again. Maybe he could now think clearly enough to figure out how to gain their trust back. He felt a wave of panic threaten to raise it's ugly head. What if he never gained their trust again? What if they always looked at him with that hint of doubt? He shook his head. He couldn't think that way. He had to believe there was a way out of this, even though he couldn't see it.

The end . . . of part 7.


	8. Chapter 8

Many, many, many thanks to those of you reading and taking the time to review. Reading them is like pouring fuel on the fire and chanting, "Burn, baby, burn!"

What's Left Behind - Chapter 8

Sheppard put the last bite of pie in his mouth and placed the fork on the tray. Finishing off his glass of water, he pushed the moving tray table away from the bed.

"Finished eating?" He looked up to see Beckett walking over to his bed.

"Yeah, I'm done. How's my discharge coming?" He was anxious to get out of the infirmary. Beckett had run just about every conceivable test on him over the last two days. If he wasn't having tests run, he'd been sleeping, so now he was rested up, feeling pretty good, and very, very bored. With the guards hanging around, his movements had been severely limited. The only time he was allowed out of bed was to use the restroom or go have tests run. Asking Sheppard if he was ready to leave the infirmary was like asking a six-year-old if he was ready for Christmas.

"We'll have you out of here within the hour. I need to do one more check of blood pressure and such and I want one more blood sample. Rodney is bringing your clothes along in a minute and Colonel Caldwell said for you not to leave until he gets here. I think he wants to go over the rules, so to speak." Beckett couldn't help but notice the change in Sheppard's expression at hearing the last sentence.

"You know we've been playing this game for almost a week now. How long is it going to take for him to finally believe Thalan is gone? He always revealed himself somehow before this long."

Beckett put a firm hand on Sheppard's shoulder. "Don't you worry, Colonel, he'll come around. Just hang in there a little longer and things will be back to normal."

Sheppard nodded, wishing he could really believe that.

Twenty minutes later, Beckett had just finished his last round of poking, prodding, and blood collecting when Rodney showed up with clothes. Sheppard made a bee line for the shower and emerged a few minutes later, dressed and damp-haired, but happier.

"Feel better?" asked Beckett as he took in the smile and the relaxed shoulders.

"Yes, I do. I've decided to look on the bright side and focus on the fact that I'm returning to my quarters, Thalan is gone, and there are at least a couple of people in Atlantis that trust me. I'll just have to find a way to convince everyone else."

McKay rolled his eyes. "Okay, now how could anyone listen to that sickening optimism and not realize Sheppard is back? Who else could play Mr. Sunshine at a time like this?"

"Mr. Sunshine?" They turned to see Elizabeth walk up behind them, followed closely by Colonel Caldwell. "Who's Mr. Sunshine?"

McKay nodded his head toward Sheppard. "Who else? Our eternal fountain of hope over here."

Sheppard smiled. "I've just decided to focus on the good instead of the bad. I've been doing a little too much brooding the last few days and I'm tired of it. Too depressing. Hey, I've discovered just having the ability to stretch in the morning is a blessing, not to mention getting to use the restroom by yourself. What more could a guy want?"

"Humph! I can think of a lot of things," mumbled McKay.

Sheppard looked up at Caldwell. "I'm assuming you've come to tell me what I can and can't do."

Caldwell nodded. "I'm not going to confine you to your quarters, but I don't want you just wandering the halls either. You may leave to go to specific sites for a specific purpose, but you must tell the guard where you are going and why before you leave and, of course, he will accompany you. If he is uncertain about the activity, he will call and clear it through me. You will have a guard 24 hours a day until further notice. You are not to leave your quarters between 2200 and 0600 hours unless you have cleared it through me first."

Sheppard smirked. "Looks like the midnight snacks are out."

Caldwell looked at him sternly. "I'm glad you find this amusing, but I do not. This is a serious matter and I am treating it as such."

"Well, Colonel, since the only perceived threat is me and I have no intention of hurting anyone, you'll pardon me if I don't get as worked up about it as you obviously are. How long do you plan on keeping me under guard? How long before you believe me when I tell you that Thalan is gone?"

Caldwell crossed his arms and stood with his feet spread apart, as if expecting some kind of attack. "I have no idea, Colonel. I guess that depends a lot on you. I have permission from Stargate Command to stay as long as it takes to be certain that the threat has been eliminated."

The two men glared at each other for several seconds. Sheppard finally turned back to Beckett, his good mood now firmly dissolved. "Can I go?"

Beckett nodded. "Let me know if you have any headaches or blackouts and don't do anything too strenuous yet. I want to see you day after tomorrow for a check up."

Sheppard nodded at the doctor. "Okay. Thanks doc, for everything." He turned back to Caldwell. "Permission to leave, sir?"

Caldwell smiled. "Just remember what I said and follow the rules, Colonel. I'll let you know when we need to discuss you're return to active duty. You're dismissed."

Sheppard walked quickly to the hall and headed for his quarters, his guard just a few steps behind.

"John!"

Sheppard slowed and finally stopped, turning to see Elizabeth hurrying to catch up with him. The young marine guarding him stopped and maintained a distance of several feet, but was obviously keeping a close eye on him. Sheppard gave him a brief nod, reminding himself that the kid was just following orders.

"John, I want to talk to you a minute," Elizabeth said as she came up beside him.

"There's not much to talk about. I'm basically under house arrest and being punished for something I had no control over and Caldwell is loving every minute of it. What else is there to say?"

"John, that's not fair. You're pretty dangerous when you're not yourself, you have to admit. He's just watching out for Atlantis. Give it some time."

Sheppard sighed and ran his hand nervously through his hair. "I've given it some time, Elizabeth and nothing's changed. Even Beckett is convinced that it's me, but no one will listen. The only people that will look at me like I'm not a traitor are Carson and Rodney. No offense, but I've been through hell and it's not getting much better. I just want to do my job, to go back to being me, and no one will let me. Do you know how that makes me feel? My own men treat me like crap and look at me like I'm the enemy. How am I ever going to return to being the military commander of this base after this? How do you lead men that don't trust you? I'll answer that for you, you don't. I'm screwed, Elizabeth."

"You're overreacting because you're upset. Please, just give it a few days. Things will get back to normal."

Sheppard sighed. "That's what I tried to tell myself, but look," he said, pointing to the guard standing a few feet away. "What do you think he'll do if I get happy feet and decide to break out in a run? He's going to shoot me. My own man will shoot me for not consulting with him before running off. Am I right?" He turned to the soldier.

The young marine was caught off guard and wasn't sure what to do or say. "Uh, well, sir, my orders are to, uh, keep you under surveillance, so, uh, . . . "

"Just say yes or no."

"Uh . . . yes, sir."

Sheppard nodded. "See, I told you. You think about how that would make you feel and then come give me the pep talk. Until then, I'll be in my quarters reading, pacing, or generally climbing the walls." He turned and resumed walking down the corridor, his shadow not far behind.

Elizabeth hung her head.

"He's got a point, you know."

She looked up as Rodney walked past her. They were ganging up on her as usual. At least something was back to normal.

oOo

Sheppard had been sitting and staring at the same page of his book for twenty minutes when a loud knocking on the door caused him to jump. A few seconds later, the door opened and McKay bounced in.

"Hey, I didn't see you at dinner, when did you eat?"

Sheppard closed his book in his lap and waved a hand at him. "I wasn't hungry."

Rodney clucked as he shook his head. "Not good, you have to eat. Carson will –"

"What? Ground me? I'm already grounded indefinitely, what more can he do?"

McKay pulled up a chair and sat down, propping his feet up on Sheppard's bed. "Well, he can stick you back in the infirmary for one thing. At least in your quarters you have some privacy and you can get up and move around. What happened to Mr. Sunshine, anyway?"

Sheppard knocked McKay's feet off the edge of the bed. "Mr. Sunshine had a rather nasty collision with reality. I don't think he's going to survive."

McKay folded his hands behind his neck and leaned back in the chair, looking back at the ceiling. "I may actually kind of miss the guy. Maybe we should have a memorial service or something." He brought his gaze down to Sheppard, who was looking at him like he was crazy.

"What? You aren't going to miss him?"

Sheppard just shook his head. "Okay, answer man, I need some answers. How am I getting out of this one?"

McKay shrugged his shoulders. "Just enjoy a few days off and relax. You can help me in the lab with some things if you like. Caldwell will eventually get bored and move on. It's as simple as that."

Sheppard couldn't help but smile. "Let me get this straight. _You_ are telling _me_ to relax."

McKay grinned. "Yep. Just relax and enjoy your time off. I can help keep you entertained until Caldwell decides to leave."

Sheppard laughed and felt the tension drain from his body, his shoulders beginning to relax as he leaned his head back against the wall. "Okay, you're on. You help me stay entertained and I'll work on staying out of trouble and relaxing. Thanks, McKay. I don't think I could do this without you."

McKay sat straight up. "Man, why didn't I record this conversation?" He shook his head in dismay. "Hey, if you're hungry now I could go with you to the mess hall. I wouldn't mind seconds on dessert and a cup of coffee."

Sheppard thought for a second. "Okay, I guess I am getting a little hungry. Hope you don't mind if we make it a threesome."

McKay raised his eyebrows. "I'm not like that, Colonel."

Sheppard just rolled his eyes as he headed for the door. "Oh, very funny. I'm laughing, see, ha ha. You know what I mean." They stepped out into the hall and Sheppard faced the guard. "We're going to the mess hall for something to eat. Care to join us?"

The young marine looked sheepishly at Sheppard. "Uh, yes sir."

"Great, glad to have you. Dr. McKay, this is, uh, Corporal . . . " Sheppard realized he'd never had a chance to meet the latest round of replacements that came over on the the Daedalus and, assuming this was one, he had no idea who this guy was.

"Barnett, sir."

"Yeah, thanks. This is Corporal Barnett. Corporal, this is Dr. Rodney McKay. And you know me, I'm the Colonel that can't be trusted not to run amuck and wreak havoc throughout Atlantis. Well, now that we've all met, I say let's find some eats." Sheppard began walking down the hall and McKay fell in beside him, Corp. Barnett a few steps behind.

A few minutes later, Sheppard suddenly stopped and snapped his fingers. "Hey, can we make a stop on the way?" He turned to face Barnett. "I need to stop by Ronon's quarters and make an apology. It won't take long."

"I don't see any problem with that, sir."

"Great, thanks." He looked at McKay as they turned at the next hall intersection. "I've never really apologized about what happened and I owe him that. I almost got him killed."

"No, Thalan almost got him killed," reminded Rodney.

"Yeah, I know. But it was still my body doing it and I still feel bad about not being able to stop it. I can't help it McKay. Imagine for a minute that Cadman was evil and made you do things to hurt your friends while she was in your head."

McKay shuddered. "Well, she did make me do a couple of things I wasn't too crazy about."

Sheppard grinned, remembering Rodney kissing Beckett just before they returned Cadman to her own body. "Oh, yeah," drawled Sheppard.

"Don't say it. We are _not_ talking about . . . about the you know what." McKay's face has blossomed to a bright shade of red.

Sheppard abruptly came to a stop, his broad grin fading back to a neutral expression. "We're here." He swallowed hard and knocked on the door.

The door opened a few seconds later to Ronon's large form. "Sheppard."

Sheppard nodded to him. "Ronon, can I come in a minute?"

Ronon looked from Sheppard to McKay and then to Barnett. "Who is he?"

Sheppard didn't look back, knowing who Ronon was referring to. "That's Corporal Barnett, my guard. You know, because I'm dangerous."

Ronon just grunted as he stepped back to allow them to enter. Sheppard looked back out the door when Barnett didn't follow.

"I'll wait for you out here, sir."

"Okay, whatever you want." The door closed between them and Sheppard turned back to Ronon, who had taken a seat. "Ronon, I just wanted to come by and tell you how sorry I am about what happened. I promise I tried everything I could to stop Thalan."

"I know. He said you were screaming at him. I think you are the reason he called for a medical team."

Sheppard nodded. "I know. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am that it all happened. How have you been?"

"I'm okay. I'm starting to get my strength back. Maybe by the time you are ready for active duty, I will be too."

Sheppard felt the twinge of doubt rise within him, but he swallowed against it. He didn't want to ruin the fine job of cheering him up that Rodney had done. "Yeah, maybe."

Ronon frowned at him. "How are you holding up? I know this can't be easy."

Sheppard waved his hand flippantly through the air. "Cake walk, what's not easy? Nothing to do all day, guards dogging my every step, confined to my quarters at night, and Caldwell talks to me like I'm the original Benedict Arnold. What's not to like?"

"Who's –"

"Sorry, he's a famous traitor in my country's history. I think it's safe to say that everyone hates him and no one would ever trust him."

Ronon stood and walked over to stand in front of Sheppard. He stared at the man until Sheppard began to shift uncomfortably.

"Ronon, is there a problem?" He wondered briefly if it was time for Ronon's revenge.

Ronon stepped back a step and smiled. "No problem, it's you. I was just making sure. I trust you Sheppard. It looks like McKay trusts you too."

"And Carson makes three," added Rodney with a smile. "See, you're well on your way to convincing all of Atlantis."

Sheppard turned to Rodney. "How many people are in Atlantis?"

McKay shrugged his shoulders. "No idea any more since they keep bringing and taking people on the Daedalus. Why?"

"Well, it's taken me a week to gain the trust of three people. I was going to figure out how long it would take to get everyone else on board."

Their thoughts were interrupted by more knocking on the door. Ronon walked over and opened it to find Teyla there with two trays of food.

"Ronon, I have brought . . . " Looking at Sheppard and McKay, she hesitated. "Oh, you have guests. I can come back later."

Sheppard grabbed a tray and set it on the table for her. "No, we were just leaving. We're on our way to the mess hall ourselves. I just dropped by to speak to Ronon a minute."

Teyla nodded. "I am very glad to see that you have been released from the infirmary. You are looking well."

Sheppard nodded. "I'm good. I'm still dangerous though – I guess you saw my shadow in the hall."

Teyla frowned. "I wondered why he was out there. Does Colonel Caldwell still not trust you?"

"Nope, and I don't think that's changing any time soon. Hey, can we spar tomorrow? I'm trying to keep from dying of boredom."

Teyla tilted her head slightly. "Has Dr. Beckett cleared you for such activity?"

"Hello!" interrupted Rodney. "No strenuous activity, remember?"

Sheppard sighed. "Well, not exactly."

Teyla flashed a grin at Ronon before looking back at Sheppard. "You get Dr. Beckett to approve and we may practice together."

Sheppard slid a sideways glare at McKay. "_Thanks,_ Rodney."

McKay grinned in victory. "No problem, that's what I'm here for, to keep you out of trouble since you can't seem to do it by yourself."

Sheppard sighed heavily and turned back to Teyla. "I'll let you know. You guys enjoy your meal."

Sheppard turned and headed for the door, missing it when Teyla nodded her thanks to McKay.

oOo

It was two days later before Beckett allowed Sheppard to resume stick fighting with Teyla. Sheppard twirled one of the sticks in his right hand, smiling at the comfortable feel of the wood in his grasp. He had been looking forward to this since Beckett told him he was cleared at his check up earlier in the day.

"I see you brought a friend."

Sheppard glanced at the marine standing guard at the door. "Yeah, as always. Another new guy I guess, but this one doesn't have a sense of humor. He's already threatened to shoot me today."

Teyla frowned. "He threatened to shoot you?"

Sheppard nodded as he examined his sticks. "Yeah, he came on duty right before I went to the infirmary and I didn't realize he didn't know where I was going. I just headed off, thinking he knew what was going on since the other guy had. The next thing I know he yells for me to halt or he's going to shoot me."

"Colonel, that is unacceptable. You should tell Dr. Weir."

Sheppard sighed. "You know the sad thing is that I'm getting used to that kind of stuff. Rodney and Carson keep telling me to be patient, but my patience is starting to wear thin. Let's not talk about this any more. We came here to spar."

"Are you ready, Colonel?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm ready." They walked out to the center of the mat and faced one another. "Rodney's been trying to keep me busy helping him in the lab, but there's only so much I can do down there. I think I'm starting to get on his nerves."

Teyla smiled and raised one eyebrow at him. "Maybe I can keep you from becoming too bored."

Sheppard smiled back at her. "I don't think I'll be bored. Battered maybe, but not bored."

They eyed each other as they took their ready positions. Teyla lunged for Sheppard and he blocked her blows. The sticks clacked as they took turns striking and blocking for a few moments before Teyla knocked one of the sticks out of Sheppard's hand. She paused, waiting for him to retrieve it and he watched her carefully as he bent over to grasp the stick.

"I know you're going to tell me I haven't been practicing and you're right, I haven't. But this time I have a good reason. I guess you could say I just haven't felt like myself lately."

Teyla sighed and shook her head. "Perhaps you should focus more on the sparring and less on being a comedian."

Sheppard raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to one side. "How do you know what a comedian is?

Teyla grinned smugly. "I have listened to you and Dr. McKay use the term several times. I have picked up on it's meaning, I believe. Did I not use it correctly?"

Sheppard smiled. 'No, you used it correctly. You just caught me off guard, that's all."

"That is twice I have caught you off guard today."

"Ouch! Now who's the comedian?"

"So, are we going to talk or fight?"

Sheppard grinned and then lunged forward. Once again the sound of sticks clacking filled the room. The sparring went on longer this time before Teyla got the best of him. She spun around and ended up behind him, striking him in the back of the knees with her stick. As soon as his knees connected with the mat, she had her stick against his throat, his head tilted back at an uncomfortable angle. After a second, she released him and he knelt forward, rubbing his throat.

"Uh, okay, I think you made your point." As he got to his feet, he noticed the smirk on the face of the marine guarding him. "You're welcome to try if you think you can do better," he offered, hoping the soldier would take him up on it. He wouldn't mind seeing Teyla knock the cocky grin off the kid's face.

"No thanks, sir. I'm enjoying watching way too much. I never knew this could be so entertaining."

Sheppard smiled. "I'm thinking there's a lot of things you don't know, Lieutenant."

Not waiting for a response, Sheppard turned back to Teyla. They circled the mat, watching each other closely. Moving forward at the same time, their sticks rapped together over and over in a dancing rhythm for several minutes before they became entangled in a deadlock. They stood face to face, their arms and sticks locked together above them for a moment before they stepped back.

"You're concentration is improving."

Sheppard smiled as he twirled one stick in his hand. "You're not getting worried are you?"

Teyla raised one eyebrow. "I am not worried. Are you?"

Sheppard just grinned as he moved forward to attack. The dance lasted several minutes this time. Both Teyla and Sheppard were panting heavily as sweat rolled down their face and neck. As Teyla began a sideways lunge, she took a misstep and almost fell. Sheppard took advantage of the situation and swept Teyla's legs, knocking her to the mat. He was on her immediately, his stick against her throat as she lay on the mat looking up at him.

Sheppard opened his mouth to let out a victory yell when he noticed the look of confusion on Teyla's face. He saw the shadow move across the mat just before the pain exploded in the side of his head and then he knew nothing.

The end . . . of part 8.


	9. Chapter 9

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What's Left Behind - Chapter 9

He was suddenly and acutely aware of voices, several voices talking loudly at once. They were near and yet they were far, but they were loud and caustic enough to make the screaming pain in his head almost unbearable. He wanted to yell at them to stop, to just shut up, but he couldn't seem to get anything to work beyond his hearing. He began trying to piece together what was happening.

" . . . no excuse for using that kind of force. He almost took his head off."

"He was only protecting Teyla. He thought Colonel Sheppard was trying to hurt her."

"We were merely sparring, as we had done for several minutes. He did not become upset when I threw the Colonel to the mat."

"I don't know who that was, but you will not let him near Colonel Sheppard again, is that clear? I will have Major Lorne assign the guards from the Atlantis staff from now on."

"No offense, Dr. Weir, but that is a clear conflict of interest."

"Well at least they won't be trying to kill him and humiliate him every five minutes. Anything has to be better than what you're putting him through."

"I don't understand why you can't just admit it's Sheppard. Thalan is obviously gone."

Sheppard couldn't stand it any longer. He'd finally managed to get his eyes open, but he couldn't see anyone near his bed and he couldn't seem to turn his neck. He tried to call to them as he lifted his head a couple of inches. Bad idea. Hot pain exploded in his head and neck, causing him to drop his head back to the bed and groan loudly. Muscles in the side of his neck went into a spasm and he gripped the bedrail tightly as he automatically tensed his shoulders and chest against waves of cramps. For a few moments he knew nothing but the pain and a roaring in his ears. As the spasms slowly subsided and he was able to breathe again, he opened his eyes to see Carson hovering over him, worry in his eyes. His mouth was moving and he realized the doctor was speaking to him.

" . . . easy, Colonel. Don't try to move, son, you're banged up pretty badly."

Beckett's face swam in and out of focus, making Sheppard dizzy and nauseous. The thought of the extreme jerking involved in throwing up terrified him. He swallowed hard, willing his stomach to settle. "Wha . . . happened?"

Beckett moved a little to one side to allow Teyla to come into view. "I am very sorry, Colonel. Your guard thought you were going to hurt me and he hit you with the butt of his gun." She frowned deeply as she continued. "He used a great deal more force than was necessary and injured you. I am sorry I did not have time to warn you."

"So'kay. Told ya . . . no sense o' humor."

"I would have to agree. Perhaps not much sense at all."

Sheppard was shocked at her comment. It wasn't very often Teyla made disparaging remarks about anyone, but he had to admit, this guy deserved it.

Teyla then smiled as she patted his arm. "By the way, that was a very good move. You did well."

Sheppard gave a small smile, about all he had the energy to do. Teyla's face moved away and Beckett came back. "How much damage?"

Beckett sighed. "You have a severe concussion and I had to put sixteen stitches in the side of your head. I'm afraid you're haircut will be seriously off for a while. The good news is that there is no fracture."

"Neck?" Sheppard still couldn't figure out why he couldn't move his neck. His thoughts were clouded and he was having a hard time concentrating. He wasn't sure if it was the concussion or drugs.

"I'm afraid you've strained some of the muscles in your neck. I'm not sure if it happened when he hit you or when you fell, but I've put a neck brace on to keep you from moving your head around, so try to lay still."

Sheppard started to nod, but the instant he began to move his neck, he was reminded in a very painful way not to. "How long?"

"You'll be in the neck brace for a day or two, just to give your muscles a chance to start healing. I've already started you on an anti-inflammatory. I'm afraid you'll be my guest for a couple of days."

"Is 'Liz-buth here?" His headache was thumping even louder than before, he was dizzy, and the side of neck felt tingly from his jaw to his shoulder. He was aware that he was beginning to have trouble getting his mouth to work properly and that his eyelids kept pulling shut on him. He wasn't going to last much longer.

Elizabeth's face came into view, if not fully into focus. Her voice was serious, even if he couldn't quite determine her expression.

"I'm here John."

"Keep . . . guy away . . . me." He hoped he was making sense because consciousness was becoming a real struggle.

"Don't worry, he won't be coming anywhere near you again. Caldwell wants his crew to be your guards because he thinks the Atlantis staff will be too lenient. You'll have two guards from now on, one of Caldwell's men to guard you and one of our guys to watch out for your interests so that, hopefully, nothing like this will happen again. I'm sorry, John, this should never have happened."

Sheppard's eyes were staying closed longer than they were open. He gave up trying to open them, but managed one last question before he allowed the darkness back in. "Do . . . you think . . . I'm me?" He was asleep before she could answer.

oOo

Elizabeth followed Carson into his office and sat down across the desk from him. She watched as Carson sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Bloody heck," he mumbled.

She peered out his office door as the last of the crowd dispersed and left the infirmary. "What a mess that was," she said.

Carson just snorted. "Mess, indeed. That man is crazy. Is he ever going to leave and stop harassing the Colonel?"

Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned forward, placing her head in her hands. "Not soon enough, that's for sure. I knew he didn't care for John, but this is just harassment. He can't think that Thalan is still there, that John is still a danger. The only danger is that one of his goons will kill John and claim self-defense."

"I'm glad to hear you're going to have one of our guys with him from now on. Maybe we can keep them from shooting him or worse."

Elizabeth looked up at Beckett. "He doesn't look good, Carson. Are you sure he's going to be okay?" She thought about how pale he'd been and about the way his features had been drawn in obvious pain. Why couldn't they just have left him alone?

"Aye, he'll be okay. I hate it, but we'll have to wake him up every couple of hours because of the concussion. I'd rather let him sleep with his neck messed up like it is. He's not going to have any fun the next day or so, that's for sure. He's been through a lot the last few weeks, both mentally and physically. As soon as we get one thing cleared, something else happens. He's just worn out in every sense of the word. That's why I wish Caldwell would leave and let him heal. I'm not sure how much more of this he can take. I don't think I would have lasted this long."

"If only there was some kind of conclusive test you could run and then give the results to Caldwell. He'd have to leave then."

Beckett sighed. "Unfortunately, there is no such test. We'll just have to ride it out and try to protect the Colonel as best we can. He'll be safe for the next two days, of that I can assure you. They better not try anything with me here or I'll make them live to regret it."

Elizabeth smiled, grateful for her CMO's protective nature when it came to his patients. "Well, that gives me two days to come up with something."

"If you need me to sedate Caldwell or any of his thugs, just let me know."

Elizabeth stifled a chuckle. "Uh, well, I don't think that will be necessary, but thanks for the offer. I'll keep it in mind."

oOo

"Wake up, Colonel. I need you to open your eyes and talk to me for a minute."

Sheppard groaned. "No-o-o-o, slee-e-e-ping."

Beckett smiled at the nurse changing the IV bag. "I know you're sleeping, but you have to wake up for a minute."

"Why?"

"You know why, Colonel, I have to make sure you're okay. You have a concussion, remember?"

Sheppard opened his eyes a slit. "Shhht . . . dizzy." Sheppard instinctively threw his arm out as the room spun violently and tilted to one side, making him feel like he was falling. "Sick."

Beckett and the nurse reacted in unison to roll Sheppard over on his side, Beckett supporting the brace and Sheppard's neck. They barely had him up on his side when he began to heave. With no time or hands to grab a basin, the vomit splattered on the floor beneath. When the spasms were finished, they gently rolled Sheppard back over on his back. The nurse quickly left and returned a few seconds later with a damp cloth and proceeded to wipe Sheppard's face with it.

Sheppard lay as still as he could, breathing shallowly and clutching the sheet in his fist, the pain in his neck making the bile begin to rise in his throat once again. "Oh no," he whispered. He got his eyes open a crack and saw Beckett empty something into his IV port. Man, he hoped that was something to settle his stomach because he wasn't sure he could go through that again. He was still seeing flashing lights from the last time.

"Just hang on a minute, Colonel, and you should feel better."

Sheppard closed his eyes tightly. He wasn't sure what was worse, the pain in his head, the pain in his neck, or the extreme dizziness. "Sucks," he whispered.

"I imagine it does," replied Beckett sympathetically. Beckett watched as Sheppard's grip on the sheets slowly relaxed and the pain lines in his face lessened. He was a little dismayed that they didn't go away completely, but at least they faded enough that Sheppard could get some sleep. He found himself wishing that a certain soldier would end up in his infirmary for a stay so he could make use of a rather large needle in his possession . . . and possibly a bedpan.

oOo

Beckett walked out of his office to find Teyla, Ronon, and McKay entering the infirmary. They eyed the two guards posted at the door as they entered.

"What are you three up to?"

McKay turned back to Beckett, pointing to the guards. "They do know Sheppard can't even get out of bed, right? I fail to see why he needs two guards."

Beckett sighed and shook his head. "This gets more ridiculous by the day. One is Caldwell's man and one is from Atlantis. Caldwell refused to let our people take care of security and Elizabeth doesn't trust Caldwell's men after what happened, so they are both assigning a guard."

"How is Colonel Sheppard?" asked Teyla.

"He's been in and out the last two days, mostly out until this afternoon. We actually carried on a conversation earlier in which he didn't drop off in the middle of it. We can take a look if you're here to visit him."

Beckett led the way over to Sheppard's bed. Sheppard's eyes were closed, but as they got closer to the bed, he opened them and smiled. Beckett went to the side and raised the head of the bed so that Sheppard could sit up without straining his neck. The brace was still in place and Sheppard held his hand against it as he shifted his position in bed, letting everyone know how sore he still was.

"Hey, guys." Sheppard winced as he continued to move around, seeking the elusive comfortable position.

McKay grimaced in sympathy. "I see Carson still has you strapped to that medieval torture device. I'd offer to rescue you, but I'm afraid I'd be shot, literally."

Sheppard grinned at McKay. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't think I can move very far right now, in spite of what they seem to think," he said, motioning toward the guards. "And I definitely wouldn't want you to get shot on my account. I'm trying to break that habit." Sheppard looked sheepishly at Ronon, who just ignored the comment as if he didn't get the connection. Sheppard hoped the lack of reaction reflected forgiveness and not resentment, and he was pretty sure it did.

"You are looking better, Colonel Sheppard. Are you feeling any better?" asked Teyla.

Sheppard appreciated the genuine look of concern on her face. Teyla had a way of making everyone feel loved and wanted and sometimes you really needed that. "Yes, I am feeling a little better. I seem to be able to stay conscious for longer than ten minutes at a time and I've stopped throwing up. That's got to be good, right?"

McKay made a face and waved his hand. "Too much information. I didn't want to know that."

"Sorry, McKay, I forgot about your delicate disposition."

Beckett snorted. "Delicate my –"

"Dr. Beckett," interrupted Teyla. "How long will Colonel Sheppard be in the infirmary?"

Beckett rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, his recovery is taking a little longer than I had expected. I can probably take the neck brace off tomorrow, and if everything checks out okay, he'll be released the day after that." Beckett turned to Sheppard. "When you are released, you'll have some very specific instructions. That neck of yours will take a while to heal and you'll have to take proper care not to injure it again. You may experience some residual headaches and dizziness from the concussion for a time as well. I'm afraid you'll be staying close to your quarters even after you're released."

Sheppard sighed. "Might as well. It's not like I'm allowed to do anything anyway. Maybe I can at least keep from getting shot or knocked into next week this time. I think I'll request some of my built up vacation time so I can go visit the Genii home planet, or maybe a hive ship, you know, somewhere that I'll feel safe and welcome."

"Now, let's not go talking like that," said Beckett. "That won't help your recovery. You need to remain positive."

Sheppard snorted. "Remain positive? In the last few days, I've had a marine threaten to shoot me, been followed everywhere but into the bathroom by an armed guard, and been knocked senseless for finally beating Teyla at sticks. I told you people already, Mr. Sunshine has left the building and he's not coming back."

"Mr. Sunshine isn't exactly a good soldier name anyway," said Ronon.

Sheppard started to nod, sending a hot flash of pain through his neck. "Crap," he mumbled as he grabbed the brace, closed his eyes, and grimaced. "I've gotta quit doing that."

"That's the reason for the medieval torture device, Colonel. It would be a lot worse without it." Beckett smiled as Sheppard slid his eye sideways toward the doctor.

"Thanks doc," Sheppard said wryly. "Good to know."

oOo

Sheppard eased himself off the bed, trying not to jar his neck or head. When he was on his feet, the expected wave of dizziness hit and he held firmly onto the bed until it passed. Then he straightened and looked at Beckett. "Okay, so far so good."

Beckett looked doubtful. "I don't know about this any more, Colonel. I'm beginning to wish I'd kept you one more day."

"No, I'm already dressed and that was entirely too much work to have done for nothing. Believe me, Doc, I won't be doing much but lying in bed, the way I feel. At least this way I can do it without an audience."

"All right, lad, I guess you do deserve a little privacy. Remember, nothing more strenuous than going to the mess hall to eat. I'm sending you some anti-inflammatory pills and something for the pain. The directions are on the bottle and be sure you follow them, especially the part about taking them with food. I'll be by to check on you once or twice a day for a while."

"Okay, Doc, thanks."

Beckett watched as Sheppard walked out of the infirmary as gingerly as he'd ever seen anyone walk. He hoped the guards didn't attack him and throw him to the ground anytime soon or he'd never get a chance to heal. He shook his head as the two armed soldiers filed out behind Sheppard, watching his every move, as if anyone could fake pain like that.

Sheppard stayed close to the wall since he was still a little prone to unannounced dizzy spells. He figured falling at this stage of the game wasn't a good idea. He knew about his two shadows, he just didn't care. He paused at the junction between halls, making sure he didn't blunder out in front of anyone moving quickly down the other hall and cause a collision. One case of whiplash at a time, please.

He saw Lorne approaching and waited on him to pass, but he pulled up along side Sheppard instead.

"Hey sir, how's it going?"

Sheppard frowned deeply. "Just peachy, Major. I have two armed guards ready to shoot me if I move wrong, my head feels like it's going to fall off, I have sixteen stitches in my head and the bald spot to go with it, and I can't move my neck more than a couple of inches unless I want to end up screaming like a girl. How's your day going?"

Lorne winced. "Sorry I asked, sir,"

Sheppard sighed. "Yeah, me too. I'm sorry to be such a grouch, I'm just having a bad . . . month, you know?"

Lorne nodded. "I know. If it makes you feel any better, the Atlantis guard is actually there for your protection."

"I know, that's what Elizabeth said. I'm just in the mood to whine and generally feel sorry for myself right now. I'm tired of this crap and that's what I feel like right now, a big pile of crap. I just want a couple of pain pills and a bed and to be left alone for about eight to ten hours. I keep waiting on the part where I start to feel human again."

"I'm really sorry about all this, sir."

"Not your fault, Major. Just hold it together for me a little longer. This will either end soon or I'll lose my mind and they'll lock me away somewhere. I'm starting to think I don't care which. Hey, that clown wasn't one of our guys was he?"

"No, sir, he's one of the crew of the Daedalus. Colonel Caldwell thought we knew you too well to do a proper job of guarding you."

"Yeah, I thought that was what Elizabeth said. My mind is kind of fuzzy about some of the details. I just wanted to make sure because I can't see being objective and unbiased where he's concerned. I was going to suggest he change his mind about staying if that's what he was planning to do."

Lorne smiled. "I think we made it clear he'd be smart to stay on the Daedalus as long as he's in Atlantis. So far he's playing it smart."

"I would be all macho and say your advice saved his life, but I don't think I could pull the wings off a fly right now. Let's just say you made me feel a lot better about not having to run into him."

"No-o-o problem, sir."

Sheppard stopped in front of the door to his quarters. "Major . . . what do _you_ think? Do you think I'm Sheppard or Thalan?"

"Sir, I think your team knows you better than anyone and they say you're definitely Sheppard. That's good enough for me."

Sheppard smiled at Lorne. "Thanks. Just let our guys know that so they'll be less likely to shoot me or beat me up."

"I'll do that. Can I get you anything? It's almost supper time. I could bring you a tray from the mess hall."

"I appreciate the offer but I think McKay has supper detail tonight."

"Okay, good night, sir. And I hope you feel human again soon."

"Me too," said Sheppard. "Me too."

The end . . . of part 9.


	10. Chapter 10

**What's Left Behind - Chapter 10**

The next two days were pure misery, as far as John was concerned. His head and neck were killing him. He couldn't find a comfortable position to sleep in to save his life. Taking a shower about made him curl up and cry by the time he was done and dressed. So in the end he just put on a t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants and lay in bed, willing himself to slip into oblivion. He didn't even leave to get food, not wanting to deal with people, and certainly not wanting to walk around Atlantis with two guards. He also turned down any and all visitors. John knew he was falling into a funk, but he just couldn't sum up the energy to care.

By the end of the second day, however, Rodney bulldozed his way into the room with a tray loaded with food. John managed to sit up against the wall, pillow stuffed behind his back and one curled behind his neck to offer support. Not that it helped. His head still ached, in spite of the Tylenol Beckett had given him, and his neck hurt if he so much as breathed wrong. Not that he gave Beckett any of this info. When the good Doc made his nightly room call, John was careful to plaster on a smile, walk around the room to show he was still mobile and getting better every day, and he made it a point to show the crumbs on his food plates. Which were brought by either Ronon or Teyla. John didn't mention flushing the food down the toilet after leaving just enough to make it look good. Nor did he mention how he would chat with whoever came for just long enough to seem like he was back to normal, then he would yawn and make the excuse that he was tired.

It wasn't that much of an excuse. John did a lot of sleeping lately, only to wake up feeling exhausted. So he really wasn't up for a visit from McKay. Rodney was too loud for one thing, making John's head ache all the more. An ache that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his skull. "Did you want something?" John asked, keeping his voice soft and his tone as polite as possible. "I'm trying to get some sleep."

"All you do is sleep!" Rodney shot back, his voice almost echoing in the room. John must have winced in reaction, because when Rodney spoke again, his voice was much quieter. "How are you feeling?"

"Been better," John allowed. He knew he had to stick to as much truth as he could. "Just taking it easy and healing, Rodney. Doc said it's gonna take a little time."

Rodney snorted. "Like Beckett knows what he's talking about? He got his medical license out of a Cracker Jack box."

John forced a smile, letting Rodney believe he was interested in bantering. But nothing could be farther from the truth. All he wanted to do was crawl into a dark hole and never come out. If only his sleep would offer oblivion instead of nightmares.

"Feel up to a game of chess or something?" Rodney offered.

"Um, maybe tomorrow," John replied. "Thanks for the offer though." All he wanted was for Rodney to go away.

But Rodney looked ready to stick around. He moved to sit at the table, pointing to the trays filled with food. "You're looking scrawnier than ever," he stated. "Come eat, or Beckett's going to hook you up to a feeding tube." Rodney shuddered. "Nasty things. Had to visit a great Aunt at a nursing home when I was a kid. Three weeks before she died. She had a feeding tube."

John grimaced just thinking about it, making the appetite he already was lacking, disappear completely. But he made himself sit at the table, moving gingerly, and picked up his fork. He took a bite of what was supposed to be green beans and it took all of his will power to keep it down. Not even three swallows of water helped. Just when John was pretty sure he was going to have to give himself away with a mad dash to the bathroom, Rodney's radio beeped.

"Yes, what?" Rodney asked, impatiently. They both listened as Radek explained McKay was needed in lab six."Can't anyone do anything without me around to take care of it for more than five minutes?" he grouched.

"Apparently not," John replied, before Zelenka could. He watched Rodney grab his plate and head for the door, still muttering to the Czech. The moment the door closed, shutting out the bulking forms of his lurking guards, John made a beeline for the bathroom. Kneeling on the floor and bending over the toilet to puke was agony for his head and neck, hence why John had pretty much given up eating. Every time he put something in his stomach, it came back up anyway and vomiting daily was not his idea of a fun way to pass the time.

After emptying his stomach, John sat back against the wall, waiting for the pain and dizziness to ease. He felt sweaty and achy and shivering, his skin slick with a cold sweat. After a time he managed to stand up, strip and step into the shower. The hot water eventually helped to wash away the deep ache and the chill. He brushed his teeth, dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt again then remembered to dump the food off his plate into the toilet and flush it away. Beckett would be coming for his check soon and John didn't want to get caught out.

He managed to be in bed, reading, when Beckett arrived some time later.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Carson queried as he moved towards the bed. He tried to be surreptitious about sneaking a glance at the plate on the table. He smiled for a moment, but it faded when he caught sight of John.

"I'm about the same," John replied, his tone carefully neutral.

Carson didn't look happy at that. He reached out to take John's pulse, then got his trusty pen light out, making a face when John grimaced at the light. "Head still bothering you, I see."

John resisted the urge to shrug. "Concussions are like that." He knew Beckett knew that, but it was a safe topic of conversation, more or less. He just wanted the man to give him some good drugs then leave him alone.

"You look tired." Carson was pressing his fingertips to the back of John's neck, testing the soreness. He eased up when John hissed as he touched a sensitive spot. "Hard to sleep?" Carson guessed.

"Yeah, hard to get comfortable," John replied. He watched as Beckett went to the black bag he'd brought with him and removed a syringe. Relief flooded through him. Maybe now he could get some sleep without dreaming. It was the dreams that plagued him more than anything now. More than the physical injuries. John couldn't stop dreaming about Thalan. Dreaming that he was back inside him, taking over. Making him do things he didn't want to do. Making him hurt the people he cared about. He held back a shudder of reaction, blinking in surprise when a hand touched his arm. 

"Just a wee sting," Carson was saying, as he carefully gave the injection. He rubbed the spot again with an alcohol pad then patted John's shoulder. "Lie down, laddie. This should give you a good few hours."

John didn't resist. He shifted so Beckett could pull the covers down then slid under them, letting his eyes drift closed. He longed for oblivion.

He didn't see the way Beckett watched him for a time. He didn't hear the worried mutterings as the doctor left the room. John was drifting in sweet darkness.

OoO

Elizabeth had been surprised when Beckett asked her to meet him in her office. It was late, nearly ten o'clock and she had been reading in her room when he buzzed her. The moment he told her it was about Sheppard, Elizabeth got up and headed out. She wasn't all that surprised to see Kate Heightmeyer waiting with Beckett. "Did something happen to John?" Elizabeth asked, as she escorted them into the room, closing the door behind her.

Carson scrubbed a hand over his face, unable to erase the lines of exhaustion etched into his skin. "Nothing new, not really," he replied. "It's just all come to a head now."

"What are you talking about?" Elizabeth found herself looking to Kate for an explanation.

The blond woman glanced at Carson, who nodded, then she focused on Elizabeth. "Carson and I both believe that Colonel Sheppard is suffering from depression. A rather severe case of it at that."

Elizabeth couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had been to visit John twice a day since he had been released to his room. He seemed fine. Tired and sore, which was to be expected given his injuries, but otherwise fine. He had smiled at her, said all the normal things he would say. "Why do you think that?" she challenged.

"Well, for one thing it's to be expected," Carson stated. "In fact, if it had been anyone else suffering through what Sheppard is going through, they would have cracked long ago."

"Are you telling me that John is having a break down?" Elizabeth could not, would not, believe that. He was the strongest person she knew. He'd been through tragedies and atrocities long before Atlantis, throughout his military career and since coming to the Pegasus galaxy. He always found a way to deal with it. His strength was the foundation for her own. It was the foundation for the entire expedition.

Kate leaned forward, reaching out to pat Elizabeth on one hand, drawing her attention. "It's happening slowly, but steadily, Elizabeth. He's been through so much and he just stuffs it away deep inside him. But what's happening to him now is different. We're shaking his belief in himself. It's no surprise that he's starting to buy into it."

Elizabeth felt herself shaking as she tried to absorb the reality of what she was hearing. She didn't want to accept it. "What if you're right, then what do we do to help him?" she demanded.

"There's not a lot we can do if he won't talk about it," Kate replied. "You know that in the entire time we've been here, the Colonel has refused to talk to me on a professional level about anything that's happened to him."

"So we do nothing?" Elizabeth was stunned.

Carson patted her shoulder. "We watch for it and do what we can. Baby steps really. Trying to get him to talk. He's not at the breaking point yet, but it's coming."

Elizabeth wasn't sure what to think. What to do. She pinched the bridge of her nose to give herself a moment to pull it together, then she looked at Beckett and Kate. "I'm going to talk to him and get back to you. I can't believe it's that bad. He seems fine." She figured if she said it out loud, maybe it would make it true.

"He's not," Kate said gently.

"Have your talk," Carson told her. "Then come see us." 

Elizabeth nodded then stood up, heading out. She was halfway to John's room when she realized how late it was and that Beckett had called after her to wait until morning. She slowed her step, turned around and stepped into a transporter. Once back in her room she grabbed a pillow and curled up on the bed. A part of Elizabeth hoped tomorrow would never come.

But come it did and she went to see John. He greeted her with a tired smile and in the soft light of day she could see how exhausted he was. How fragile he looked. It hit Elizabeth like a slap in the face. "You've given up," she whispered.

"No," John replied, shifting up off the bed and moving to walk to the far corner of the room. As far away as he could get from her within the confines of the room. "Everyone else has given up on me." John was shaking suddenly, clenching his hands into fists he held tight at his side as he glared at her. But the rage in his eyes was dim. "This isn't living, Elizabeth. I'm nothing but a prisoner. Everyone is starting to buy into the myth that I'm the enemy. They believe I'm the bad guy."

"You're wrong!" Elizabeth protested. "We believe in you! You know we do!"

John laughed then, a sound that was sharp and bitter and echoed through the room. "Actions speak louder than words. I'm locked up and under guard. Send me back to Earth."

That hit Elizabeth like a ton of bricks. "What?"

"If you're just going to keep me locked up, then send me back to Earth." John moved back to the bed and sat down, looking defeated. "I'm worthless here." He curled up on his side. "And tired." He closed his eyes.

Elizabeth didn't know what to say. So she backed away to the door and fled. She went to the nearest balcony and paced for over an hour before tapping her radio. Ten minutes later she was in conference with Beckett and Kate. "Do what you have to do to make him better," she ordered.

Kate looked surprised. "You know it's not that easy."

"Nothing ever is," Elizabeth replied, hearing the bitterness in her voice. "But I need John. Atlantis needs him, and I want him back."

"So do we all," Carson replied, reaching for her arm and giving it a squeeze to get her attention. "But if things don't change, nothing we do is going to help the Colonel."

Elizabeth felt determination spark deep inside her. "I'll make sure things change," she promised. "You take care of John, I'll take care of Caldwell."

OoO

The nightmares kept coming, so John pretty much gave any pretense of sleeping. He wasn't surprised when Beckett showed up with Kate. He stared at them, feeling nothing but apathy as he told them both he wasn't going into sessions with Heightmeyer."

"We'll worry about that later," Beckett said, moving to the table where he'd set a tray of toast. "First things first. We need to get some weight back on you. You're skin and bones. Come eat now."

John wanted to laugh. Just one more thing he no longer would have control over. Eating. They were taking everything away from him now. But he knew Beckett wouldn't leave until he ate, and that if he refused he would be taken to the infirmary. He couldn't let that happen. So John took a bite of toast, then another, forcing it down against the rising bile. But in the end he lost the fight and he didn't even make it to the bathroom in time before he was spewing his stomach contents over the floor. He felt sick and sweaty, his head ached and his neck radiated pain into his shoulders. He felt hands on him, supporting him. Heard Beckett's voice calling for a gurney. John began to struggle then. He wasn't going back to the infirmary. 

But hands were on him, forcing him down to the floor, pinning him, controlling him. Then a sting in his shoulder and darkness swirled around him, dragging him down and away.

He didn't know how long he was unconscious, nor did he care. John peeled his eyes open and saw a pretty nurse coming towards him. He tuned her out, but accepted the straw she held out and took a sip of water. He nodded at her questions, then did the same with Beckett, playing along for now, saying what he knew had to be said and playing up how tired he was. Didn't take much acting there, he felt exhausted into his soul.

Finally he was left alone to doze. John watched and waited then he pulled out the IV and slipped away. Only to be caught by his guards. He had forgotten about them. John cursed as they gripped his arms, hauling him back into the infirmary. He screamed at them, kicking out, struggling until a flash of white hot pain exploded in his head and he was falling into darkness.

THE END...of part 10


	11. Chapter 11

**What's Left Behind – Chapter 11**

He hurt. He ached inside and out. His head ached and his neck throbbed with pain. But he was aware of it only peripherally. Just as he was aware of the restraints on his wrists, the IV's in the back of his hand and the bodies of people that moved near and around him.

He rather liked it like this. Detached awareness. The voices just buzzing noise, like white-noise, in his ears. The faces blurred as they hovered over him. He didn't have to do anything anymore. No one could make him do anything now. Not even Thalan could touch him in this place. He was nothing more than white-noise screaming inside John's head.

OoO

Elizabeth sat at John's bedside. She was tired to the bone.

Forty-eight hours had passed since he had tried to escape from the infirmary, only to fall into a somewhat catatonic state. Carson had a specific medical term for it, but it eluded Elizabeth's memory. Not that it mattered. Bottom line, John Sheppard lay in bed, eyes open, staring at nothing.

In an ironic twist of fate, it seems as just as she was fighting to make changes that would help John, he was giving up the fight.

Getting rid of Caldwell hadn't been easy. But Elizabeth had done it. She had contacted General O'Neill who had used his considerable pull and gotten Caldwell and the Daedalus called back to Earth. Only just as she had been seeing Caldwell on his way, Beckett had called to inform her of John's set back. She could still see the satisfaction on Caldwell's face at the news. But Elizabeth had held firm, insisting that he leave and more than willing to call in muscle to enforce it. Muscle in the form of Lorne, three armed Marines and Ronon.

Caldwell hadn't been happy. Had insisted that they needed him more than ever. But Elizabeth knew better. She knew that Atlantis needed Sheppard. Only he wasn't with them any more. He was trapped inside himself and Elizabeth didn't know what to do to get him to come back out. She felt helpless, scared and alone.

"How are you doing, luv?"

She jumped at the sound of Beckett's voice at her elbow, turning to glare up at him.

He looked apologetic and patted her shoulder. "Sorry to scare you. Can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm fine." Elizabeth sighed, settled back into the chair again and locked her gaze on Sheppard's pale face. "Do you think he can hear us?"

"I think so," Carson allowed, as he pulled up a chair of his own. "Doesn't mean he's listening though. He's stubborn like that."

Elizabeth almost smiled at that. "Yes, he is," she agreed. "But it's a good kind of stubborn. Most of the time."

Carson nodded then asked, "Have you eaten?"

"Had a sandwich a little while ago," Elizabeth replied. "You know I take care of myself. I don't want you breathing down my back." Her tone was gentle and teasing.

"Wish the Colonel would be so considerate," Carson countered. "Although, to be fair, he does take fairly good care of himself."

Elizabeth knew that to be true. "He likes to be one hundred percent so that he can take care of his people."

Carson got up to check on the IV's, then returned to his seat. "That he does," he confirmed. "He does a good job."

"We haven't done as good a job taking care of him though," Elizabeth whispered. "We messed this up, Carson."

"I know." He looked defeated as he scrubbed a hand over his face. "I don't think it's very easy for the Colonel to trust people. But once he believes in you, it's complete trust. We didn't return the favor this time. Which we can't take all the blame for, all things considered."

Elizabeth knew he was saying that for her benefit. "I know we couldn't sure about Thalan being gone, not after he was able to trick us. But before his...breakdown, if you will. John told me that actions speak louder than words, and he's right. We were telling him we trusted him, but we didn't show it. Not by keeping him a prisoner. Which was what he had become. The things we did to him..." She broke off and shook her head, horrified to even think about it now.

Carson reached out and patted her arm. "Caldwell is to blame for much of it. He didn't want to believe in Sheppard."

"No, it's my fault," Elizabeth insisted. She rose to her feet and moved closer to the bed, reaching out to let one fingertip brush over the back of John's hand. The one without IV's stuck into it. "I had the last word, the final say, on everything. I was so afraid to be wrong again. Afraid that if I was wrong, we'd lose John. But that's exactly what's happened. We've lost him."

"He's not lost yet," Carson countered firmly. "He's still here and we'll find a way to get through to him."

Elizabeth wanted to believe that, but she had her doubts as she stared at the emptiness in John's eyes. It was like someone had turned out the lights. "What can we do?" she asked.

Carson moved to her side. "Just believe in him and let him know you're thinking about him and that you want him back where he belongs. Just talk to him. When he's ready, he'll listen."

"I hope you're right." Elizabeth managed a wobbly smile, then she focused on John. "I need you back with us, John," she said softly. "I can't do this alone. So please...come back." She was holding his hand as she spoke and Elizabeth felt certain that John's fingers twitched in hers. She looked down but his hand remained still. Regardless, she decided to take it as a sign of hope. "I'll be back," Elizabeth promised. "You rest and get better." With that she patted his hand, then she turned and walked away, blinking hard against the sting of tears.

OoO

John felt scared. He knew that Elizabeth was worried about him. He knew it even though he didn't want to know.

The dreams were coming back. Not as bright and sharp and vivid as before, but they were creeping into his awareness, making the shadows fade away. John liked it in the shadows. He wanted to stay here where nothing could really touch him anymore. Only Thalan was starting to scream at him again. A part of him knew it wasn't real, but another part of him was afraid he was slipping away from reality and that soon he would be nothing more than broken fragments of himself. Fragments that were slipping away until there wouldn't be enough of him left to put back together.

John willed the shadows to come back to hide him. And slowly they drifted around him, keeping him safe once more.

OoO

Rodney sat next to Sheppard's bedside. He came to visit every night, before going to bed. Five days had passed with no reaction from Sheppard. He just lay there, eyes open, staring at nothing. It creeped Rodney out.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, his voice pitched to a whisper. He felt silly talking to Sheppard when the man wouldn't respond to him. "Where are you?" Rodney really wondered about that. Wondered if Sheppard had lost his mind or if he was just playing possum. He wouldn't put it past the man to do that just to piss people off. Only, deep down, Rodney knew this wasn't a game to any of them. Sheppard was slipping away from them. Slipping away fast.

"Lorne is in charge of the Military," Rodney stated. "You know that, right? Cause you need to know that. Caldwell has left the building and Lorne is in charge. It's kinda scary." Rodney leaned forward, his eyes locked on Sheppard's face. He had been telling him the same thing every night, hoping it would sink in that Caldwell was gone. But nothing. No reaction. Not even a blink. Which was creepy in itself.

"Mind you, it could be worse. Lorne isn't that bad, not really." Rodney grimaced and stopped talking. This was a waste of time. "Look, Sheppard...you need to get back here and take charge of things. Either that or just die already or something, because this limbo thing isn't doing anyone any favors!" Anger rose in Rodney as he spoke, and he jumped to his feet to get in Sheppard's personal space. "I never thought you'd give up!" he spat. "I never pegged you for a quitter! What the hell is up with that, hah? Why are you giving up!" Rodney found himself gripping Sheppard's shoulders, ready to shake him, when a hand was on his arm, pulling him away.

Rodney turned to see Beckett fuming. "Sorry, sorry!" He raised his hands in apology. "I didn't...I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry." He really was.

Carson took him by the arm again, steering him away from Sheppard's bed. "I know you're angry about things, Rodney. We all are. But what happened isn't Sheppard's fault."

"I know." Rodney did know that. "It's our fault. We messed up. I get that." He pulled away from Beckett and walked out of the infirmary. He had work to do.

OoO

Carson watched everyone who came to visit Sheppard. It was mostly the same bunch. Rodney, Zelenka, Lorne, Weir and Teyla. Teyla would visit the most and sit with Sheppard, reading to him or telling him stories. Ronon never visited, but he would come and watch from the background.

Until tonight. One week into Sheppard's catatonic state and suddenly the Satedan was by his bed, staring at him. He looked angry and Carson wondered if he should let his presence be known, or maybe ask him to leave. But to his surprise all the big guy did was lean in and say,

"I trust you, Sheppard. Start trusting yourself." A clap of a big hand on Sheppard's shoulder, then Ronon turned and walked out.

Carson scurried over to Sheppard's bed just in time to see the Colonel's eyes close. He froze in disbelief. But they stayed closed and relief washed over Carson. This had to be a good sign. It just had to be.

OoO

John hadn't like the shadows for a while now. They weren't safe anymore. They didn't keep the voices out and the faces of the people who hovered over him were no longer blurred. But he was scared. He wasn't ready to leave this place. He wasn't ready to face what was out there.

He was so alone. And that's when it hit him. Alone. He was alone. Thalan was gone. The voice that had been screaming in his head was silent now. He closed his eyes, willing the shadows to fade away, hiding in the darkness for a moment. And when he opened his eyes again, he saw Beckett's smiling face.

**THE END...of part 11**


	12. Chapter 12

What's Left Behind – Chapter 12

"Welcome back, son. I'm glad to see you've rejoined us." Beckett continued to smile, the look of relief on his face making him seem almost giddy.

John just looked at Beckett, not especially wanting to be there. He had tired of hiding in the shadows and yet he hadn't really wanted to return to the real world either. He attempted to lift one of his hands only to discover the restraints. He pulled both arms up so he could see that he was firmly chained to the bed. A small, bitter laugh escaped his lips.

"I've come full circle – all the way back to the beginning. How many guards this time?" He waved his hand as much as the restraint would allow. "Never mind, I don't really care. You just do what you have to do."

"Colonel, this was for your own protection."

"Yeah, whatever. So I guess if I promise to stay here, you wouldn't believe me and remove them would you?"

Beckett looked at him for a second and remembered how the whole downhill spiral had started with a lack of trust. "If you promise not to leave the infirmary or try to harm yourself, then I'll take them off."

"I'm not going anywhere. I don't think I could if I wanted to. And I'm not going to hurt myself. I only did it before because it was the only thing I could do to save Rodney."

Beckett nodded. "Well, then, I'll take you at your word." Beckett released one restraint and then the other.

Sheppard silently watched him, wide-eyed and with his mouth slightly agape. "You took them off? Why?"

Beckett sighed and bowed his head for a second before lifting it to look at Sheppard. "You said you wouldn't try to leave or to hurt yourself. I believe you."

Sheppard snorted. "No one trusts me any more, so don't even try that. I don't really think they ever will again. They'll always wonder if it's me or Thalan. Sometimes I'm not sure I trust me."

"That's not true, Colonel. We trust you, we just didn't do a good job or showing it. Instead of defending you and doing what it took to get your freedom, we just bowed down to Caldwell's rules. We let you down, son, and for that I am very sorry. But Elizabeth has had Caldwell sent away, so things will be different now."

Sheppard just looked at Beckett, wanting to believe the man and yet unable to make himself do it. They were nice words, but that's all they were to him, nice words. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing and chose instead to look away from the concerned face that almost begged for forgiveness. He felt a strange sense of apathetic calmness. He wasn't angry any more, he just didn't feel anything, didn't really care about anything.

"Well, anyway, do you think you could eat something? You've lost several pounds in the last couple of weeks and we need to start getting some weight back on you."

The mention of food made John's stomach recoil and he felt suddenly nauseous. "No, not right now. Maybe later."

Beckett recognized the look. "Okay, we'll try later. Maybe you just need some time for your body to adjust to being . . . awake again." Getting no response, Beckett just patted John on the shoulder and left.

John turned over to lie on his side and curled up, wanting to shut the world out. Vaguely aware of the IV and catheter, he was careful not to dislodge them. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. He just wanted it all to go away for a while and after several minutes, he got his wish.

oOo

As Elizabeth entered the conference room, she automatically did a head count. Teyla, Ronon, Rodney, Lorne, Beckett, and Heightmeyer. Everyone was here. As soon as she took her seat, she turned to Beckett.

"Okay, Carson, why don't you start us off. How's John?"

"He's come out of the catatonic state and he's responding to his surroundings again, but he's not happy. He's extremely weak from both the last week and from events before that. He apparently hasn't been eating much for some time or been throwing it up when he did. Severe depression can disrupt your eating habits as well as your digestive system. He's slightly anemic and malnourished and he was dehydrated when we first brought him in, although that has resolved itself. I should tell you that I took him out of the restraints. He's extremely depressed and feels like no one trusts him any more. I think it's time we started showing him some."

"Carson's right," said Kate. "It will be very important that everyone shows their trust in him, but at the same time, we'll have to keep an eye on him. He's very vulnerable right now. He's very deep in a state of clinical depression and it's not going to resolve itself overnight. Our support will be crucial to helping him out of this."

"It's the least we can do since we helped put him there," said Rodney, looking down at the table."

"What do we need to do?" asked Teyla.

Kate leaned forward, her arms on the table. "Talk to him and encourage him to talk, but don't push. Maybe you could remind him of missions or events where you depended on him and he came through for you. Build on the trust you have developed in him over the past two years. Be very careful not to patronize him because he will recognize it and it'll just make him angry. We've got to build his confidence in himself as well as his trust in us as we try to convince him that _we_ trust _him_."

"I don't understand why this is happening," said Rodney. "We've been through so much and he's always brushed things off and moved forward. Why now?"

Kate sighed. "I don't know that anyone will ever be able to answer that with certainty. I can tell you what I think. First of all he's had someone else in his head for a while. Rodney and Elizabeth, you both had a much shorter experience with that and you know how frustrating that can be. And he's been forced to hurt and almost kill people very close to him. I know it's important to Colonel Sheppard to maintain control, and he had absolutely no control over this, no matter how hard he tried. Second, the illness he suffered because of Thalan may be at the root of part of this. According to Carson, he ran a very high fever for an unusual amount of time and had several seizures. Either or both of these could have caused a multitude of problems. But I think those pale in comparison to the third problem."

Kate paused and looked around the room, making sure they were all listening. It was important they understand what was happening in order to be able to help Sheppard. "I think the most important thing is that we took away who he was."

"What do you mean?" asked Teyla.

"Think about it for just a minute. What does Colonel Sheppard do? What is most important to him?"

"Protecting us and Atlantis," said Elizabeth almost immediately.

"Yes," agreed Teyla. "Colonel Sheppard will do anything, including sacrificing his own life to protect the city and her people."

"That' right," nodded Kate. "He's been protecting people most of his adult life and, even though I don't know him very well, I can tell he's very passionate about it. It's more than his job, it's who he is. How much stress would it be if he couldn't protect Atlantis and was faced with the prospect of never being able to do it again? He was not only physically restrained and prevented from even protecting himself, but we showed him with every action we took that we did not trust him. And we didn't even give him a light at the end of the tunnel, no time frame for when it would be over. He finally gave up and quit trusting in himself. In his eyes, his life and his purpose in being were over. It's hard to blame him for falling into depression – who wouldn't under those circumstances."

They sat in silence around the table for several minutes, the events of the past few weeks replaying in their minds as they began to understand why Sheppard had fallen so far. It was almost funny how each and every mistake made in handling the situation became painfully clear to all now.

"When can we come see him?" asked Rodney.

Carson and Kate looked at one another and she nodded to him. "You can come tomorrow, but only one or two at a time and you can't stay long. I need to get him eating again and he still needs a lot of rest. He's not going to like it, but we're thinking about putting him on an anti-depressant for a while until we get him back to where he needs to be. We may have to make some adjustments at first until we figure out what works best for Colonel Sheppard."

Elizabeth sighed. She knew he would hate that and fight it tooth and nail. "Is that really necessary? Maybe we could try talking to him first."

Kate shook her head. "I'm afraid this is too far gone for that. We're not talking about a mild case of depression, Elizabeth. This is about as severe a case as I've ever seen. We need to make progress quickly or . . . if he gets any worse he could be a danger to himself."

Ronon shook his head. "No way. Sheppard would never try to kill himself. What he did in the jumper was purely to protect Dr. McKay."

"I agree with Ronon. Colonel Sheppard would never harm himself," added Teyla, her voice confident.

"I tend to agree with you except for two things," explained Kate. "First, people who suffer from depression often begin seeing the world and those around them in a totally different way than before and they sometimes do things totally out of character. They give up hope in the worse cases. The other thing is that he may not do things consciously to hurt himself. The eating is an example. He apparently ate almost nothing he didn't throw back up for several days and he told no one. He hid it. That's one reason he's so weak right now. We have to turn things around soon if we're going to help him."

Elizabeth looked over to Lorne. "Major Lorne, you're to remain in charge of the military presence in Atlantis until further notice. It looks like it may be a while before Colonel Sheppard is fit for duty."

Lorne nodded. "That's okay, Ma'am. You guys just concentrate on helping the Colonel get better and I'll keep his spot warm for him."

Elizabeth smiled, grateful for Sheppard's second in command. "Thank you, Major. I'm sure the Colonel will appreciate it." She looked around the table. "Is there anything else?"

Beckett raised his index finger. "Make sure you are in the right frame of mind when you come visit. Don't come down there if you are tired or angry or in a bad mood. We need to keep everything positive if we can, at least for a while."

Everyone nodded that they understood. "Okay, we're done here."

oOo

Beckett sat down in the chair beside Sheppard's bed and faced him as he lay on his side, staring straight ahead. Sheppard in no way acknowledged his presence.

"Colonel? I came to see if you feel like trying to eat yet?" Sheppard didn't say anything, continuing to stare ahead. Beckett sighed, wishing there was some way to reach inside the shell of a man and draw him back out. "Colonel, if you don't eat something soon, I really will be forced to use a feeding tube. I'm not threatening you, I'm just trying to look out after your health. You can't go on like this. Please, just try for me."

John didn't really want to eat, but the thought didn't make him sick as it had earlier. He didn't want anything to do with a feeding tube, he was sure of that. "I'll try." He knew he should be more concerned about the look of relief that flowed across the face of the doctor, but he just didn't seem to care.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," exclaimed Carson.

Sheppard lay there until Beckett returned a few minutes later. When he saw Beckett set the mug on the tray table, he turned over on his back, forgetting to be careful until he felt the tug of the tubes that were attached to him. They were starting to get annoying and he considered asking for their removal. Beckett raised the head of the bed to a sitting position and rolled the table in front of him. A spoon sat in a mug of watery looking broth.

"I know it's not much, but the way your stomach has been lately and considering you haven't had anything to eat in a week, I thought we'd better start light."

Sheppard nodded, placing one hand against the side of the mug, its warmth seeping into his skin. It felt surprisingly good. "It's okay, I'm not very hungry." He was surprised when the smell didn't make him nauseous. He could feel the doctor's eyes on him as he dipped the spoon into the broth and lifted it to his mouth as he bent over the mug. It didn't taste like much and for that he was grateful. The warmth actually felt comforting as it slid down inside him. He took another sip and then another. He thought if Beckett smiled any bigger, his face would probably split. Talk about being easily entertained.

John continued to dip out spoonful after spoonful until the mug was empty. He set the spoon down inside the cup and leaned back against the pillows, his stomach feeling full and warm.

Beckett sighed so loudly that John wondered if he'd been holding his breath all that time. Beckett moved the tray table out of the way and sat down in the chair.

"That's very good, Colonel. You're off to a good start. I'll start you out on several small, light meals each day at first and work our way to a more normal schedule as you progress."

"Okay." John really didn't care, but he tried to pay attention anyway in case the doctor said something important.

"Kate will be by tomorrow to talk to you and probably on a daily basis after that. I know how you feel about talking to her, but I'm afraid it's necessary. Colonel, you're suffering from depression and we're going to do everything we can to help you. I'm afraid much of this is our fault and we'd like the chance to correct it. We'll try not to push, to let you work through things at your own pace. If we seem impatient, it's just because we care for you and we desperately want to help."

John watched Carson's expression and mannerisms carefully, his body language giving him away. "What aren't you telling me?"

Embarrassed, Carson looked at the floor. "Once we have you back on food, we want to start you on an anti-depressant."

"No, you aren't drugging me."

"Colonel, don't think of it like that. You're level of depression is pretty severe for you to be in a catatonic state for a week and even you can't deny that. There are several medicines that have proven very beneficial, especially when used in conjunction with therapy. We only want to get you back on your feet. You can beat this, but you have to trust us and work with us."

"I'll talk to Kate, but I don't want drugs."

Beckett just sighed. "Son, at this stage of the game, I don't think we have any choice, but we'll see. It would probably only be for a few months. Just get some rest and I'll check on you later."

oOo

Kate settled into the chair next to Sheppard's bed and flipped the top of her notepad over. She smiled at the Colonel, noting he didn't smile back. He looked . . . haggard. His face was pale, his eyes dull, and his features seemed to sag. She knew he'd done almost nothing but sleep for the last three weeks and yet he looked exhausted. His hair gave new meaning to the term "bed head" and he sported about a two-day growth of beard and he didn't care about any of it. Remembering the man who had so diligently fought against the iratus bug and against the retrovirus that threatened to turn him into one, part of her wanted to cry. What had they done to bring him to this?

"Okay, Colonel, is there anything in particular you would like to talk about?"

Sheppard eyed her from the bed where he sat. "Can't think of a thing."

Kate smiled, having expected resistance. "Okay, then I'll pick the subject. Why don't we start with what happened when Thalan was in your head. How much do you remember and how did that feel?"

Part of Sheppard really didn't want to talk about it, to revisit letting Ronon get shot or almost killing Rodney. And yet part of him craved sharing the series of events with someone. He wanted someone to know what a battle he had raged against Thalan, that he hadn't just stood idly by why all these things happened. Kate wasn't on his team. She hadn't been directly involved in any of the events so far so maybe she could offer an objective opinion. Slowly, tentatively, he found himself telling her about the first few hours of Thalan's occupation.

When he got to the part about everyone thinking Thalan was gone when he was still very much in control, he clammed up. The memory of screaming at Thalan and wondering if he would be stuck like that forever seemed too raw and fresh.

"I'm really tired now. Could we quit for the day?"

Kate noticed Sheppard had pushed back against the pillows and his eyes were slightly squinted. "Are you in pain, Colonel?"

"Head and neck ache a little. I think I tried to do too much today." His head and neck really did ache, but mostly he was tired of talking. He felt tense and anxious and he wasn't even sure why. He just wanted her to go, to be left alone.

"Okay, we'll stop for today. You did well, Colonel. I think if you'll talk to me like this in our future sessions, we can make some real progress. I'll see you tomorrow."

John shut his eyes as she left, grateful for the ensuing silence. It was short-lived, however, as Carson arrived a few minutes later. "Kate said your session went well. She also said your head and neck were bothering you."

"Yeah, but not bad. I think I just need to get some sleep."

Beckett probed and checked John's neck until he yelled at him.

"Quit! Just leave me alone!" John pushed Beckett's hands away. "I just want to be left alone, is that so hard? I don't need anything, just let me get some sleep . . . please."

After recovering from the outburst, Beckett nodded. "All right, Colonel, I'll leave you be for a while."

John thought he'd be happy when Beckett left and he was finally alone. After several minutes, though, he just felt lonely. He closed his eyes tightly and fought the sudden panic at being left alone. He hated this, hated feeling like he had no control over anything in his life, including his emotions. For a moment he wondered if they were going to be able to help him, because he was finally beginning to realize just how badly he needed help.

oOo

Teyla and Ronon approached John's bed, Teyla carrying a food tray. She set it down on the tray table beside the bed.

Sheppard looked at the tray. "What's that?"

"We told Dr. Beckett we'd bring your lunch to you. I believe they have prepared a turkey sandwich and some kind of vegetable." She rolled the table in front of Sheppard.

He had managed to keep down the broth from the first day without any problem. When they graduated to jello at the end of the second day, that had come back up. John figured it was because it was green and he hated green jello. They had slowly been giving him better food and most of the time, if he didn't eat fast and he didn't eat much, it seemed to stay down. Beckett was marginally happy. Happy he was eating and keeping things down, not happy about the amounts. He figured the turkey sandwich was an attempt to get him to eat more, but even that didn't sound appetizing. He wasn't eating because he wanted to or because he was hungry. He was eating because he didn't want a feeding tube.

"Colonel Sheppard, are you not going to eat?" He couldn't miss the look of concern on her face, even though he wanted to.

"Oh, yeah, thanks." He took a bite of the turkey sandwich, waiting on his stomach to object. When it didn't he chewed and swallowed. He kept thinking to himself to focus on eating part of the meal and keeping it down. Teyla and Ronon watched in silence as he chewed and swallowed several more bites.

"You guys are making me nervous, standing there watching me eat like that."

Teyla and Ronan glanced nervously at one another. Ronon finally cleared his throat and seemed to be gathering the courage to speak, an odd look for him.

"Sheppard, I don't think I ever told you . . . thanks for giving me a place to live and for getting rid of the tracking device so I could finally have a life again."

John put the sandwich down and swallowed. "I didn't remove the tracking device, Carson did."

"Yeah, I know, but you're the one who got him there and made me believe that you could help. When my people and my world turned out to be destroyed, you gave me a place on your team. In spite of the way I treated you at first, you believed in me. I've never had that before."

"I also owe you a debt of gratitude," added Teyla. "I and my people. You brought us here to Atlantis, you rescued me from the hive ship, and you trusted me when no one else did."

John pushed the food tray away and leaned back against the pillow. "Why are you telling me this now?"

Teyla bowed her head. "Because you trusted us and protected us when we needed you and we did not do the same for you. We are grateful to you and ashamed of ourselves. We just thought you should know that. But if you will give us another chance, we will not make that mistake again."

John reached back and rubbed his neck, the ache starting to seep back in and up into the base of his skull. He wanted so badly to feel the deep concern and trust for them that he had in the past, but it seemed to flitter just out of reach. He knew they were being truthful with him and yet he still harbored doubts that they really trusted him. They wanted to trust him, just like he wanted to trust them. He couldn't help but wonder if they would ever be a team again.

"Colonel, I think we should go," said Teyla diplomatically. "You look tired. We will come back later."

Sheppard nodded. "I am a little tired. Thank you for lunch."

They nodded and left, leaving John to wish he could go back in time and not agree to host Thalan's presence at all. Then none of this would be happening.

"Colonel?" Beckett walked in and looked down at John's food tray to see that he had eaten about two thirds of the sandwich and a couple of bites of the vegetable of the day, whatever that was. "I wish you would eat more."

"I'm doing what I can, Doc."

Beckett seemed to accept that and placed a small paper cup with a pill on the table. John stared at the cup without moving.

"I need you to take this John. It's a common anti-depressant and I think it will help with your treatment."

"No. I told you, no drugs."

"Son, you need to do this. You're making a bit of progress with Kate, but it's slow going and even you know that. You're still in there somewhere and the John Sheppard I know and have come to respect would want to get better. He wouldn't want to sit around feeling sorry for himself and wasting away, he'd take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and fight. I need you to fight this. I need you to let me help you . . . please."

And wasn't that a kick in the gut? Deep down inside, he knew he really did want to get better. He desperately wanted people to trust him again and to feel like part of the team. He wanted, no, he needed to go back to protecting and watching over his city. And it was _his_ city. Before he lost his nerve, he picked up the cup and swallowed the pill. Beckett handed him a glass of water and he drank enough to wash it down.

"Thank you, Colonel. We're going to get you through this, I promise. Can I get you anything?"

John shook his head. "No, I'm good." He was still in shock that he'd made himself take the pill and he was already getting jittery about what it would do to him. He had no idea what to expect and cold fear suddenly gripped at his stomach. "Think I'll just lay down for a while."

Beckett helped him get settled and fussed over him until John wanted to scream. He finally patted John on the arm and took the food tray as he walked back across the infirmary. John was glad they had removed the curtains, as they were starting to make him feel claustrophobic, and yet he was missing the privacy they afforded. He closed his eyes and told himself to relax.

An hour later, he was carefully swallowing, hoping to keep the contents of his stomach in place. He was anxious and felt like his heart was beating too fast. He kept shifting, trying to find a comfortable position, but slowly so as not to make himself feel any worse that he already did.

"Colonel, are you all right?"

John jumped, not having heard Beckett come up. He was afraid to try and respond so he just looked at Beckett.

Carson understood immediately and when John sat up abruptly a few seconds later and started heaving, the doctor was there with a basin. He eased John back down in the bed, noting that he was shaking. A nurse came a few seconds later with a wet cloth and wiped John's face.

John welcomed the cool dampness against his face as he struggled to get his stomach to settle. He thought he heard Carson talking to him, but everything seemed garbled and confused until he finally slipped away into darkness.

The end . . . of part 12.


	13. Chapter 13

Another round of thanks for all the much appreciated reviews. We hope you continue to enjoy!

What's Left Behind – Chapter 13

John listened to the sounds of the infirmary for a while before opening his eyes. He wanted to gather his thoughts before having to talk to anyone and deal with life in general. Life hadn't been much fun lately, so he wasn't particularly anxious to jump in just yet. He did notice that his stomach felt better and for that he was grateful. Although throwing up had been a common activity lately, it certainly wasn't a favorite one.

John finally opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. Nurses were bustling about, taking blood pressures, pulses, and temperatures. He watched for a while, not really interested but not wanting to think about anything beyond what was going on before him.

"Good morning, Colonel," said the nurse as she approached his bed. "I see you're awake."

John lay quietly as the nurse took his vital signs and recorded them. She looked up at him when she had finished. "I'll get Dr. Beckett. He wanted to see you when you were awake."

John just nodded, not really wanting to see Beckett right now but knowing he didn't have a choice. "Okay."

Beckett appeared a few minutes later. "Good morning, Colonel, at least I think it's still morning." He looked at his watch. "Well, just barely. How are you feeling? More importantly, how is your stomach feeling?"

"It's okay I think."

"Good. I'm not sure what happened last night. It could be that your stomach didn't settle after the sandwich or it could have been from the medication. Unfortunately many of the anti-depressants can have nausea as a side effect. Just in case it was the medication, I'd like to try a different one this afternoon after you've had a chance to eat something."

John grimaced. "Are you sure we can't just go without the drugs for a while?"

Beckett looked at him and sighed. "I don't think so. We discussed this yesterday."

John looked down at his lap glumly. "Yeah, that was before I heaved until I thought my stomach would turn inside out."

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it before your collapse."

John winced at the cut. "Yes I did. Why do you think I was flushing my food? I got tired of puking it back up."

"All right, point taken. I can try one from a different class of drugs that is less likely to have side effects."

John still didn't like the idea of being on medication of any kind, but he knew he didn't have any choice and he was tired of fighting over it. He didn't give his approval, but chose instead to just sit quietly and let Beckett come to his own conclusion.

"If you think you can eat, I'll send out for some soup. They have some chicken noodle today and I've heard it's pretty good. I think it'll be easier on your stomach than the sandwich."

John felt a knot in his throat, so he just nodded. As Beckett turned to go, he looked disappointed at the lack of interaction. He briefly turned back and looked at John, who pretended he didn't see him. The doctor finally turned and left, leaving John alone with his thoughts. He tried to remind himself of his self admission the day before that he wanted to get better and that he needed help. He began trying to convince himself that he needed to cooperate, to let them help him. Somehow that battle seemed harder today.

oOo

As John put the spoon down, he had to admit that the soup had been good. That was the closest he had come to enjoying a meal in a long time. Maybe that was a good sign. Maybe he could go without meds after all. His mood began to brighten a little bit. Hearing the sound of approaching voices, he looked up to see Carson escorting Elizabeth and Rodney his direction. Elizabeth smiled at him and Rodney just looked nervous.

"Hi guys." John decided to break the ice by speaking first and he didn't miss the glint of surprise in all three faces. Good. Keeping them off guard probably wasn't a bad thing.

Elizabeth nodded to him. "Hi, John, you're looking better."

Rodney looked around nervously. "You haven't been throwing up again, have you?"

"Rodney!" snapped Carson.

John couldn't help but smile. At least Rodney was being honest. "No, not today anyway. Hang around a while though, the day's not over."

Beckett sighed. So much for keeping things positive.

"Carson tells me you've been making some progress with Kate." Elizabeth laid her hand on John's arm, hoping to convey her support. John just stared down at his empty soup bowl. "I know this isn't easy for you, but if you'll just continue to work with Carson and Kate, I'm sure they can help you get through this."

"Did you guys have a meeting and discuss the 'make Sheppard feel better' speech or something? Everyone that comes in here either relays some feel good story about how I saved their life or they give me the 'work with the doctors' speech. I'm sick of it! I just want to be left alone. Why is that so hard to do?"

John pushed the tray table away and turned over on his side, his back to his guests. He ignored the awkward silence that followed and closed his eyes. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest and he had no idea why he had become so angry. He felt like he was smothering under all the "concern" being shown to him, feeling like it was all just an act to keep an eye on him, to try to get in his head.

He startled at the hand on his shoulder a few minutes later. "They're gone, Colonel. Would you like to tell me what that was all about?"

He turned over to see Carson looking down at him. "I don't know. I just suddenly felt . . . like I was being smothered, like I couldn't breathe. I'm so tired of this. Why can't I just go back to the way I was? Sometimes I'm afraid . . . "

Beckett's brow creased in concern. "Afraid of what, son?"

"Sometimes I'm afraid I'm losing my mind . . . that I'm never going to be okay."

Beckett smiled and patted his arm. "You'll be all right again, Colonel, you'll see. And we're sticking with you all the way, whether you want us to or not. Sit up for me now."

Sheppard turned over and sat up, seeing the little white paper meds cup in Beckett's hand. He looked at it nervously. "Doc . . . I'd rather not."

"I know, but I think this is the only way. Please Colonel, give it a chance." He held the cup out to Sheppard and picked up the glass of water he'd brought with him.

Sheppard sat staring at Beckett's hand for a few more seconds before he took the pill out of the cup and popped it into his mouth. He took the glass and swallowed some water, quickly handing it back to the doctor.

"Thank you Colonel. Kate should be here in a bit for your session."

"Okay," Sheppard said so quietly that Beckett almost didn't hear him.

oOo

He screamed and begged, but Thalan just ignored him. His friends and team members were lined up at the conference table like lambs waiting on the slaughter. He screamed at them from inside his head to run, to protect themselves, but he couldn't make them understand. Thalan walked up behind Ronon and the big man just looked over his shoulder and nodded, turning back to the others. Thalan slid the knife easily across his throat and John felt the warm blood flowing against this hands. He waited on the others to tackle him and stop Thalan from doing any more harm, but they didn't. They just sat and smiled, stupid expressions of calm acceptance on their faces as he walked up to Teyla and then Rodney, quickly slicing across their necks as well. He was now covered in blood. He continued to scream and cry and plead, but Thalan just laughed. Carson Beckett and then Major Lorne, their warm blood spraying across the room as the knife cut flesh with almost no resistance. He begged for it to be over. And still Elizabeth sat smiling at him, trusting him fully as Thalan slit her throat as easily as the others.

And then Thalan was gone, leaving him standing in the conference room, the smell of blood thick in the air, the feel of it slick on his hands and arms. He ran to the bathroom and began washing the blood off, wondering how they could sit there and let him do that. He washed and washed, but even though the blood seemed to poor down the sink in rivers, it never left his hands. He rubbed and rubbed and it wouldn't come off. They had trusted him. They trusted him and he killed them and now their blood wouldn't come off his hands. He began to panic and scream for the blood to come off, for someone to help him get it off.

Caldwell appeared with his soldiers and they began pulling him away from the sink, dragging him to a cell. "You killed them, Sheppard. They trusted you and you killed them. We have to lock you up." Caldwell laughed at him as he begged for help to get the blood off and the soldiers just continued to pull on his arms as he struggled to maintain his position. After several moments, one of the soldiers became Carson Beckett and he was confused.

"No, you're dead, I killed you! Thalan killed you. Let go of me, I have to get the blood off."

"You didn't kill me, son, I'm right here and there is no blood. Look!"

Beckett held his hands up in front of his face. He was right, there was no blood. John suddenly realized they were in the infirmary, not in the bathroom. He also noticed that everyone in the infirmary was staring at him, so he figured he must have put on quite a show. He lay back against the pillows, now becoming aware that he was shaking and drenched in sweat. Beckett let go of his arms and he let them fall to his sides. He was breathing like a runner after a sprint and his heart hammered away in his chest so hard he could hear it in his head.

A nurse walked up beside his bed with a damp cloth and began to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He breathed in sharply as the cool cloth hit his hot skin, startling him.

"You gave me quite a start, lad. I couldn't get you to wake up. That must have been some nightmare." To say Beckett's face showed worry and concern was a huge understatement.

"Yeah, some nightmare." He swallowed hard against the nausea rolling in his stomach. Not again, not again, he kept thinking. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, fighting the rising bile, but it was a losing battle. He felt hands on both sides help him as he lurched forward and once again began to puke, Beckett already there with the basin to catch the foul contents of his stomach. When he was exhausted and the stomach spasms stopped, he slumped back against the bed, wishing he could just disappear.

He opened his eyes to see Beckett hovering as the nurse wiped the sweat and vomit from his face. "I hate this," he whispered.

"I know you do lad and I'm sorry. I wish I could make it go away for you. How's your stomach now? Are you still nauseous?"

"Better."

Beckett felt his patient trembling beneath his hand. "Are you cold?"

"No."

"It's the nightmare making you shake then. You want to rinse?"

John opened his eyes. "Yeah, please." Beckett and the nurse helped him sit up and Beckett handed him a glass of water and held a fresh basin out for him to spit in. After rinsing, he swallowed a few sips, trying to wash the burning sensation from his throat. When he was settled again, he took note of his surroundings and saw Kate standing a few feet away, quietly watching. He guessed he knew what their next topic of conversation would be.

Beckett fussed with the covers until John was settled. "Do you feel like talking to Kate?"

"Not really. Throat hurts."

Beckett nodded, but didn't seem surprised. "You were screaming pretty loudly and I'm sure the vomiting didn't help any. It should pass in a bit, but I'll ask her to come back a little later."

Sheppard nodded. "Doc, please . . . no more drugs. I can't take that stuff, it's making me sick."

Beckett hesitated. "I'd like to try once again, Colonel, from a group that doesn't usually cause nausea as a side effect. It's a different type of drug than I usually use, but it can also be effective. We aren't doing anything right now, though, so we can talk about it later. Maybe you should try and get some rest."

Sheppard nodded, mostly so Carson and Kate would go away. He had no intention of trying to sleep, not after that last fiasco. He could still see his team and his friends, sitting there calmly trusting him as he slaughtered them one by one. Maybe that was the message he'd been trying to relay to himself. Maybe the problem was that people _shouldn't_ trust him with their lives, not that they didn't trust him enough. He began to remember all of the times people had trusted him and he let them down, often ending with their death. And if he wasn't fit to ever earn their trust again, then where did that leave him?

oOo

Sheppard lay on his side as he heard Beckett approach behind him. He felt numb inside and out and wished Beckett would just go away.

"Colonel? Are you awake?"

He briefly considered closing his eyes and pretending he was asleep. In the end, he figured he'd just face what was coming and get it over with. He knew Carson and he wouldn't quit. Slowly, he turned over to lie on his back. Beckett raised the head of the bed a little for him as he eyed Kate, standing behind the doctor.

"I thought I'd see if you felt like having our session now, Colonel?" she asked.

Sheppard sighed loudly, not really caring how rude it sounded. "Might as well," he mumbled.

"All right then, I'll just leave you two. Let me know if you need anything." Beckett walked back across the infirmary as Kate sat in the chair beside the bed.

"Colonel, do you want to tell me about that dream you were having earlier today?"

Sheppard brought his right hand up, rubbing his eyes and forehead with the heel of his hand. He knew it had been coming, but he had refused to think about it. He could feel the tension headache beginning to build.

"Not really. Do I have a choice?" He looked at her a minute. "Right, that's kind of what I thought." He pushed himself back into the pillow and let his head fall back against it, his field of vision now resting on the ceiling instead of Kate. "Thalan was back in my head. I . . . he slit everyone's throat one at a time and I couldn't stop him."

"Who exactly?"

"Ronon, Teyla, McKay, Carson, Major Lorne, and Elizabeth, in that order if you want to know. They just sat at the conference table, quietly watching him, watching me. They never tried to run or stop him." John looked down at his hands and began to rub them together, and then to absently rub them against the blanket.

"Is that where it ended?"

"Not exactly. I was trying to wash the blood off me and Caldwell brought some of his men to take me to a cell. I kept washing the blood off, but it wouldn't go away."

"What do you think it means?"

Sheppard frowned at her and snorted. "I don't do dream interpretations. Why does it have to mean anything, maybe it was just a stupid dream? What do _you_ think it means?"

Kate smiled. "You tell me what you think and then I'll tell you what I think it means."

John shrugged. "I think it's my way of telling myself that I'm the problem, not everyone else. They were right not to trust me. When people trust me, they tend to get killed. Maybe Caldwell wasn't so far off after all. Look at my track record, Dr. Heightmeyer, it's not pretty. Probably the best thing Elizabeth can do is pack my bags and send me back to Earth when the Daedalus returns. I'm more of a liability than anything."

Kate was stunned. She had expected a certain amount of guilt and a pessimistic look at the future, but she hadn't expected this. "You don't really think that, do you? I can assure you that no one else does."

Sheppard lifted his head off the pillow to look at her for the first time since they had begun. The look of hopelessness in his eyes scared her into wondering if she would be able to help him after all.

"It's the truth. Why do you think Elizabeth let this go on so long? I think deep down she didn't trust me, she knew that I would screw up, just like always."

Kate cocked her head slightly. "Is that why Elizabeth was the last to die? Because she stood by and watched Caldwell and his men humiliate you and physically attack you for days before she put a stop to it?"

John looked confused, making it obvious he hadn't consciously considered why Elizabeth had been the last to die other than just coincidence. He seemed troubled by the possibility.

Kate decided to continue in John's silence. "You wanted to know what I thought about your dream. I think you feel guilty about all the people you have been unable to protect over the years, but especially since coming to Atlantis. I think you have unrealistic expectations of what you can and can't do in that regard. The people you care for and trust the most didn't protect you at a time when you needed protecting and they didn't let you see their faith and trust in you. You were then stripped of your ability to do your job and control your life. I think that combined with the physical injuries and illness you encountered acted to send you into this depression."

She paused for a second, making sure John was listening. He wouldn't look at her, but she could tell form his changing expressions that he was processing everything she said.

"I think all of that played a role in adding to the guilt of not being able to stop Thalan as he tried to hurt the people you care about, the people you protect. I think you've convinced yourself that no one should trust you or they'll be let down. Colonel, your dream is how _you_ perceive yourself, not how we do. We haven't lost faith in you, we just want you to get better. You can go back to being Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, military leader and chief protector of Atlantis, but you have to want it. Do you want it?"

John just stared at the ceiling. "I don't know," he said softly. "Part of me wants that more than anything and part of me thinks it's already too late."

"It's not. I promise it's not." Kate got up and stepped over to stand closer to the bed. She reached out and placed a hand firmly on his shoulder. "We can do this John, but you have to help us." She stood watching him for a few seconds, thinking about the stoical soldier who had been through so much and yet still managed to hold a city together through crisis after crisis. If anyone deserved to be trusted, the man before her did. "Let us show you we still believe in you, we still trust you."

John didn't say anything and wasn't sure he could, even if he knew what to say. Part of him wanted to believe what she was saying so badly. Part of him needed to believe her.

"I'll let you get some rest, Colonel. Dr. Beckett said he didn't think you were able to sleep any this afternoon and I know he's worried about you. I'll see you tomorrow."

He nodded slightly as she turned and left. Closing his eyes, he brought his hand up through his hair and then rubbed his aching head. Bits and pieces of the nightmare kept replaying in his head and he could still smell the stench of blood. He could feel the blood making his hands slick and he began rubbing them against the blanket again. He opened his eyes to see Beckett standing there watching him like a bug under a scope. Stilling his hands, he cleared his throat.

"Need something, Doc?"

He couldn't help but think that Beckett looked tired and sad. He supposed that was his fault too. Beckett pushed the tray table over his lap and he saw that someone had brought supper. A plate with some type of casserole and a piece of bread sat on the table, along with a glass of juice and a paper cup with a new kind of pill.

Sheppard pushed the table away. "Not much point in eating if you're going to make me take that. I'll just puke it all up in an hour." He couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice. He was so tired of all of this.

"Colonel, this one is from a different class of anti-depressants. You can't have a bad reaction to all of them. You know what they say, third time's a charm." Beckett smiled at him, but it was obviously forced and didn't comfort Sheppard at all.

Sheppard pouted for a few seconds before picking up the pill and looking at it like it was some type of vile bug. He stuck it in his mouth and swallowed a drink of juice before wadding up the paper cup and throwing across the infirmary.

Beckett just sighed quietly. "Thank you Colonel." He walked across the infirmary and picked up the paper, tossing it in a nearby garbage can before making his way to his office.

Sheppard watched until Beckett disappeared into his office and then pulled the pill out from under his tongue. There was no way he was spending another night puking his guts up. It was time to take back control of his life. He looked around for a place to put the pill. He couldn't throw it away, they might check the garbage. He carefully pushed several bites of casserole over to the side of his plate and slid the pill into the center. He would never eat everything on his plate anyway and Beckett wouldn't expect him to. There were not going to control him with drugs. He picked up his fork and began to eat the non-medicated portion of the casserole.

The end . . . of chapter 13.


	14. Chapter 14

What's Left Behind – Chapter 14

John sat up and tried to untangle the covers from his legs. The blankets were completely pulled out from under the mattress and his feet stuck out the end, now beginning to get cold. He wrestled for several minutes before finally getting them straightened out and covering his feet. He pulled his pillow around in his lap and was trying to beat a little life back into it as he muttered under his breath.

"Colonel, is everything okay?" He jumped at the voice that suddenly emanated from the end of his bed.

He sighed and bowed his head at the sight of the nurse. "Jeez, you scared me to death."

The nurse smiled as she walked over the side of the bed and took his pillow. "Sorry, guess I was in quiet mode so I didn't wake anyone. I take it you can't get comfortable."

"No, can't seem to get settled tonight. I was trying to figure out if there was actually a pillow in there somewhere or if it's just an empty pillow case." He watched her try to fluff it up for him before grimacing and placing it behind him on the bed.

"There's one in there, but I think it's seen better days. I'll get you another one. Can I get you anything else?"

"Maybe some water, my mouth is kind of dry."

The nurse nodded. "Be right back." She returned a few minutes later with a fresh pillow and a glass of water. She handed the glass to Sheppard and traded the pillows.

After drinking most of the glass of water, John lay back against the new pillow. "Thanks. That's much better, like there's actually a pillow there." He looked down to see her tucking the end of the covers under the mattress.

"You've been very restless, haven't you? Would you like me to call the doctor? He could probably give you something if you're having trouble sleeping."

"No, I'm okay. Thanks, though. I think I can rest now."

Finishing with the blankets, she stood and nodded. "Okay, I'll be around. Let me know if you need anything else."

Once John was alone again, he began to think. He felt nervous and agitated and he didn't know why. He just couldn't seem to turn his brain off and relax. Part of it was guilt over lying to Beckett. This was different than little understatements he sometimes made – not telling when he had a headache, or not letting on how much something hurt. He wasn't one to whine about pain. But what he'd done today was out and out deception and the guilt was heavy on his mind.

And yet he wasn't trying to sabotage Beckett's efforts to help him. He had decided that he really wanted to get better, more than anything. He wanted to take control of his life and get back to the job of protecting Atlantis. Carson and Kate wanted to help him and he planned on taking them up on their offer, of doing whatever they thought necessary to boost him out of this depression. Everything except the drugs. And he had given that a try – twice. Puking had become such a normal part of his day that he was scared. He hated it and would do almost anything to get away from it. The drugs weren't working and he just couldn't handle it any more.

John tossed and turned and tried out every conceivable position multiple times. He just couldn't seem to let things go. Making himself lie still for a while, he finally began to doze off. He saw himself slipping up behind Rodney as he sat in the jumper, reaching around to slit his throat. He jerked awake with a yelp, frightened and shaking from the knowledge that it had come very close to happening.

"Colonel?" The nurse from earlier came quickly to his side, gently pushing him back down in the bed. He hadn't even been aware he was sitting up.

"Sorry . . . nightmare."

She fussed over the covers, trying to straighten them again. "Are you okay? Can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm okay."

"Try to get some sleep. You've hardly slept at all and it's almost morning."

"Okay, I will."

She smiled and patted his arm in that comforting way most of the medical staff seemed to use. He briefly wondered if they had classes on that. Patient Arm Patting 101. Carson probably taught a section. He almost laughed out loud, but didn't want to seem any crazier than most of Atlantis probably already thought he was, so he didn't.

He watched as she walked off and knew that he had no intention of going back to sleep. Thalan was waiting in his nightmares and he wasn't ready to face him again just yet.

oOo

John lay quietly and watched as the nurses took their early morning observations on the patients currently in the infirmary, including himself. His head was pounding and he was exhausted. Part of him really wanted to go to sleep, but he knew he was still too wound up. The anxiety was still there, making him feel jittery. He saw Carson Beckett enter the ward and talk to the nurses, looking over charts of each patient. A few minutes later, he headed toward John.

"Good morning, how do you feel?"

Carson was frowning at him, so he knew the nurse had filled him in on his sleepless night. "I've got a bit of a headache."

"Aye, I imagine. I'll get you something after we get some food into you. I heard you didn't sleep well either." Beckett couldn't miss the tired expression or sagging eyes, even if he hadn't been forewarned of Sheppard's restless night.

"Yeah, just couldn't seem to relax and get settled. I felt . . . like I was nervous or something."

"I'm sorry lad, but it may be more side effects of the medication. These are pretty common ones for the one I gave you."

Beckett looked like he felt guilty, which made John feel guilty for lying. "Uh, it's okay. It's better than throwing up," he offered, hoping to make Beckett feel better.

Beckett sighed. "I suppose. You're blood pressure is up a bit too, I suppose from the anxiety you were feeling. I'll need to keep an eye on that."

John watched as one of the nurses brought a breakfast tray and set it on the table. After raising the head of his bed, she pushed the table over in front of him. "Breakfast is served, Colonel. I hope you're hungry."

"Thanks," he said as she nodded and walked away. John looked back up at Carson, aware he was about to leave.

"Doc, what do I need to do to get out of here?"

Beckett smiled and genuinely felt it for the first time in many days. A glimmer of the old Sheppard was starting to shine through and he saw it as a ray of hope. "Lad, I'm glad you asked. Physically, you're doing rather well and gaining your strength back. If you continue to eat well and talk to Kate and the medication doesn't cause any problems, probably a day or two. I just need to monitor you for a bit and make sure we've got your meds right before I release you."

John picked up his fork and began poking the scrambled eggs. "I did some thinking last night. Actually, I did a lot of thinking last night. I want to get back to my life, to end this pity party we've been having. I need things to get back to something akin to normal."

"That's what I've been waiting to hear." Beckett gave him the patented pat on the arm and John almost lost it, choking on the bite of eggs he'd just put in his mouth.

oOo

Elizabeth paused at the door to the infirmary and glanced back down the hall. Rodney was waving at her.

"Elizabeth, hold up." Rodney hurried to catch up, panting lightly as they walked into the infirmary.

"Are you going to see how John is?" she asked.

"What else would I be doing here?"

"Well," she said matter of factly, "you could be seeking medical attention. You do have to do that with some regularity, you know."

"Hey, I haven't blown anything up or caught anything on fire in weeks. It's just no fun without the proper audience."

Elizabeth grinned. "Don't you mean accomplice?"

Rodney shrugged. "Whatever."

They stopped and watched Sheppard, sound asleep in his bed.

"Figures. I walk all the way down here and he's asleep." Rodney sighed and shook his head.

"Come on, let's at least see if we can find Carson." They walked over and stood in his office doorway, watching him work on his computer for a second.

Rodney stepped into the office. "Are you humming?"

Carson looked up from the computer, smiling and standing when he saw them. "Come in and sit for a minute. I think the Colonel's sleeping right now."

"Yeah, we saw him," said Rodney, exasperation in his voice. He plopped down in the chair next to the one Elizabeth sat down in. "That's just about all he does is sleep, except maybe for puking."

"He's tired and he has a headache. The nurses said he didn't sleep much last night and when he did, nightmares woke him up pretty quickly. But the good news is that I think we've turned a corner. He told me today he wants to do whatever it takes to get out of here and get better. I believe he'll let us help him now."

Elizabeth slid forward to the edge of her seat, hope and excitement on her face. "Do you really think he's going to get better now? I really miss the old John."

"Aye, I do. It won't be easy and it won't be fast, but I think we're finally on the right track."

oOo

John picked up the fork and stirred it through the mashed potatoes on the food tray that had just been delivered. He was just about to stick the fork in his mouth when the nurse walked up and set the cup with his pill on the table beside his tray. He stared at it a second, wishing it would just disappear. He finally looked up to see the nurse smiling at him.

"Dr. Beckett says you should take that now."

He nodded, but made no move for the pill. "I'll get it in a second."

The nurse continued to watch him, but seemed to become uncomfortable as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Uh, Dr. Beckett said I should watch you take it."

He frowned at her, trying not to become angry, reminding himself that she was just doing her job. He picked up the cup and dumped the pill in his mouth. As he tucked it under his tongue, he drank a sip from his glass of water. Wadding up the paper cup, he handed it to the nurse. "There."

The nurse took the trash and smiled. "See, that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

John felt a little like he was a five year old being told to take cough medicine. As soon as the nurse left, he pulled the pill out of his mouth, carefully watching the other people in the infirmary. He carefully stuck it in his mashed potatoes and was pushing it farther in with his fork when Beckett appeared.

"Colonel, how are you feeling?"

John jumped and jerked his fork, smearing potatoes across his plate. He looked panicked for a minute as he tried to see if the pill was visible and determine if Beckett had seen him. Beckett was looking at him with a frown and John felt fear clench at his stomach.

"Colonel, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just a little jumpy I guess. Sorry." He watched Beckett's expression, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights and wondering if he looked like one.

"Did you take your meds?"

John felt a brief surge of anger, remembering that the nurse had been told to watch him take the pill. It passed quickly, though, as he thought about what he'd been doing when Beckett surprised him, to be replaced by the feeling of being a hypocrite. He suddenly felt dirty, like someone who didn't deserve to be trusted. After a few seconds, he became aware that Beckett was talking to him and felt even worse when he realized Beckett was singing his praises.

" . . . made remarkable progress today. You're change in attitude is going to make for a big improvement in how fast you get better. After you've been on the anti-depressants for a while, you should begin to feel even better. If you continue as you are, I'm thinking about releasing you to your quarters tomorrow afternoon late."

Sheppard looked down at his plate. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off the potatoes, expecting the pill to pop to the surface at any moment. "Thanks, Doc."

The silence that followed got his attention and John looked up to see Beckett studying him. "What's the matter, Colonel? This morning you were wanting out of here and now that I offer you that opportunity, you don't seem happy about it."

John took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "No, it's not that. I just feel . . . I guess maybe I'm a little nervous. I'll be okay, right?"

Beckett's face relaxed as a smile crept back into his expression. "Yes, Colonel, you'll be fine. I wouldn't release you if I thought otherwise. And it's perfectly natural for you to be a little nervous. But you can contact me or Kate at any time of the day or night. You'll continue your sessions with her and I'll drop by once or twice a day to check on you. I need to keep an eye out for possible side effects for a while."

"How long before I go back to active duty?"

"I'm afraid that will take a while. Let's not rush it."

John had expected that, but it didn't stop him from being disappointed. "What about running and sparring with Teyla?"

"Let's give it a couple of days. You can begin with walking and maybe some form practice until you get your strength back up. I'll let you know when you can move up to running and getting your butt whipped by Teyla."

John rubbed the new scar on the side of his head, the hair thin and just coming in around it. "At least she doesn't usually knock me unconscious."

John sighed as he looked toward the door. "How many guards will I have?"

"None."

John blinked and looked at Beckett blankly. "None?"

Beckett grinned. "You're free to come and go as you please, Colonel. There is no guard. You haven't had a guard since Caldwell left."

John broke out into a big, lop-sided grin. "Cool."

oOo

McKay realized he was walking down the hall alone. He turned to look behind him and discovered Sheppard straggling several yards behind him, glancing around nervously.

"Colonel, are you coming or not? What are you looking for? We're not on a treasure hunt, we're just getting you to your quarters."

"Guards."

McKay rolled his eyes. "I happen to know we told you several times, there are no guards. I knew Beckett was a quack. You obviously have brain damage and he didn't even figure it out."

Sheppard walked up to stand beside McKay. "I know you _told_ me there were no guards, but I . . . I guess I needed to see it for myself. Do you know how long I've been under guard, a prisoner?"

"Too long," said McKay quietly. "Colonel, it's really over this time. No guards. No Caldwell. No confined to your quarters. It's time to concentrate on getting back to normal."

John nodded, hoping silently that it was still possible.

They reached Sheppard's quarters a few minutes later. John walked in and stood for a second before opening the door and peering outside. Satisfied, he walked back in and closed the door. He ignored Rodney watching him, trying to act like he didn't notice.

"You want to play a game of chess or something, maybe just sit and talk?"

"No, thanks. I think I'll just read a little and then go to bed early. I didn't sleep well the last couple of nights and I'm kind of tired."

"Why aren't you sleeping well? Is your neck still bothering you?"

"No, not really. It kind of twinges sometimes and I have to be careful about moving it too quickly, but that's not the problem. I just can't seem to relax. It's like I'm nervous about something and I can't figure out what. It's okay, it'll get better. I think I'll sleep better in here, not so many people or distractions."

McKay nodded. "Yeah, I don't know how anyone sleeps in the infirmary. Oh, I have your pills. Carson said you should take one now." He pulled a bottle out of his pocket and set it on the nightstand by the bed.

"Let me guess, you're supposed to _see_ me take it, right?" Not waiting for an answer, John opened the bottle and shook out a pill. Walking into the bathroom, he drew some water into the cup by the sink. With his back to Rodney, he palmed the pill and drank from the glass, pouring the extra water down the drain. Turning around, he put his hand on his hip as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Okay, I took my medicine like a good boy, so you can go file your report."

McKay looked down, flustered by his assignment. "It's not like that. We're just trying to help and getting you to let us is almost impossible."

John felt a stab of guilt and wished he'd just kept his mouth shut. "I know, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just tired and cranky. How about if I take a raincheck on beating you at chess until tomorrow?"

Rodney sighed loudly. "And exactly what makes you think you'll beat me? The chess board and I will see you tomorrow." McKay paused a minute before turning around. "Are you going to be okay here, by yourself? I could stay . . . "

"I'm fine. Besides, we'd probably kill each other." John thought Rodney almost looked relieved and he had to work not to smile.

"Yeah, well, okay. See you in the morning and we can get breakfast."

The doors in Atlantis didn't make much noise when they closed, but tonight, John's door seemed to slam shut. The emptiness of the room hung like a cloud for several minutes, until John finally turned around and dropped the pill he'd been holding into the toilet. He flushed it down and went back into the main room, throwing himself across the bed. He really was tired. No sleep for two nights along with the heavy weight of guilt was beginning to take it's toll. He wasn't even aware when he drifted off, fully clothed and lying sideways across the bed.

Even through the haze of exhaustion, he dreamed. His team was on a planet, running from the Wraith, running and firing at them as they pursued them to the stargate. Suddenly, he stood up from his crouched position and looked toward Teyla as she turned to him. She was calling to him when he pulled his gun up and shot her in the head, the bead of blood appearing in the middle of her forehead just before she fell back. Not hearing any more, everything became a roaring in his ears. Ronon was running for him, yelling something as he brought his weapon around to fire at Sheppard. John shot him once in the chest and once in the head. His body jerked as it fell. He saw fear in McKay's face as he turned and tried to run, but John shot him twice in the back. He stood and looked at the carnage before him, emotionless, wondering why he had done it, why he'd just killed his team.

Laughter caught his attention. Wraith no longer followed them, but there was man standing a few feet away, laughing at him. He looked familiar, but John didn't know who it was at first.

"You aren't done, you know. There are more to kill in Atlantis."

It was Thalan, he knew that now. Turning, he walked to the gate. In his dream he didn't have to dial the DHD or worry about shields. Just thinking made the gate work for him. Stepping through the gate and into Atlantis, he walked up the stairs and into Elizabeth's office. Carson Beckett was there, talking to Elizabeth. He walked in and shot Beckett in the stomach and then the head. He turned to Elizabeth, Thalan now behind him.

"Kill her. She did this to you. You should just kill her where she stands." Thalan was still laughing and it was starting to get on John's nerves.

"John, I didn't mean to make all this happen. Please, don't shoot me." Elizabeth begged for her life and part of him wanted to listen and yet part of him just didn't care.

"Kill her," Thalan whispered in his ear.

John lifted the gun and pressed it to Elizabeth's forehead. He screamed as he pulled the trigger, blood spattering across the office wall.

He woke suddenly and violently, feeling himself falling. Grunting as he hit the floor, he sat up and looked around the darkened room, breathing so hard he was sure he was going to pass out. Nightmare. He finally came to grips with the fact that he had had a nightmare and fallen out of bed. He went to run his hand across his face and realized his face was wet. He put both hands up to his cheeks and rubbed his eyes, discovering his face was wet with tears.

John wanted to get up and go wash his face, but he couldn't find the strength. Suddenly he was cold and he didn't think it was just the night air. Reaching up, he pulled the blanket off the bed and curled up on his side on the floor, his body wrapped in the blanket, trying to stop the shaking and knowing sleep wouldn't come again for quite a while.

The end . . . of part 14.


	15. Chapter 15

**WHAT'S LEFT BEHIND - Chapter 15**

"Colonel?"

He heard Beckett's calling him and he even wanted to respond, but his tongue felt thick in his dry throat and it would take too much energy to make a sound. Still, John tried to at least open his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy and as if they were glued to his eyeballs. His entire body felt lethargic and achy. He shifted, feeling hardness underneath him and remembering that he was on the floor.

Hands were on him, helping him to move, then Carson asked softly, "Are you hurt anywhere, lad?"

"N-no," John managed to mumble. He got one eye open and reached out to try and untangle the blanket from his legs. Beckett helped him, then gripped him to get him on his feet. John swayed for a moment then they were moving towards the bed.

"Nightmare?" Carson queried, as he got John sitting down.

John simply nodded, seeing no reason to lie. Better to give an honest reason for why he got caught sleeping on the floor.

Carson took his pulse, muttering a bit. Then he tested for a fever the old fashioned way. Back of his hand to John's forehead. "I came to check on you," he said softly. "When you didn't respond I came in. You were so still you made my heart stop for a moment."

"S-sorry," John mumbled, then he reached for the glass of water on the bedstand with a shaky hand.

"Here, let me help." Carson snagged the glass then supported it while John took a sip. He put it back and said, "Get under the covers, Colonel. You need to rest for a bit."

John shook his head, then cleared his throat. It felt better after the water. "Need to pee," he said, hoarsely. "And a shower," he added. He felt cold and damp and sweaty and gritty.

Carson looked unhappy about the shower bit, but he was already helping John to his feet. "Let's get you to the bathroom first. If you can stand up well enough to pee on your own, I'll consider the shower."

"Okay." John didn't argue because he didn't have the energy or the desire to do so. Instead he let Beckett help him into the bathroom, pulling away once there. He closed the door and took care of his bladder, then he started stripping his clothes off. "I'm good to shower!" he yelled out to Beckett.

"I'll wait here for you then!" Carson shouted back.

Since he didn't need to reply to that, John simply started the shower up and got in. He kept it as hot as he could stand it without burning his skin, then he stood under it for a long time, just letting the heat soak into his skin. After a time he could feel the ache in his muscles and joints fading a bit. That's when he reached for the shampoo. A quick lather and rinse and John grabbed the soap and cleaned up. By the time he was done and dried off, he felt shaky again. But tired shaky this time.

"Colonel!" Beckett was banging on the door. "Are you all right?"

"Fine!" John replied, projecting as best he could. He was feeling a bit light-headed at the moment. Stumbling to the door, he opened it and stepped out, nearly colliding into Beckett's solid form. The good doc grabbed him by the shoulders and steadied him.

Guiding John over to the bed, Carson made him sit. "What do you want to sleep in and where do you keep them?" he asked.

John pointed to a drawer. "Sweats, t-shirts above, boxers above that." He watched Beckett collect everything then let him help to get dressed. It was easier than arguing about it and, if he was honest with himself, John wasn't sure he could have done it on his own. Finally he was able to crawl under the covers.

"Want to talk about it?" Carson asked, as he fussed with the blankets for a bit.

"Not really," John replied. "It was just a nightmare." And not one he was in a rush to relive.

Carson looked like he was going to argue the point, but instead he asked, "How's your neck feeling after sleeping on the floor?"

John flexed it a bit, wincing as it twinged. "A bit sore," he allowed. "But the shower helped."

"You need to get some food into you," Carson stated. "But I'm betting you're not feeling up to a trip to the messhall."

"Sucker bet," John drawled, and that earned him a weak smile.

But the smile soon faded from Carson's face. "I'll bring you something then. Rest while I'm gone."

Since all John wanted to do was sleep, he simply nodded then curled up on his side. But the moment Beckett was gone and he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, images of the dream popped into his head. They left John feeling jumpy and nauseous. He considered getting up and trying to read, but he really didn't have the energy. So he tried doing math in his head and, that seemed to do the trick. After a time he dozed off.

A hard knock on his door brought John back to awareness. Figuring it was Beckett with his food, he didn't get up. Instead he called out, "Come in!" John was surprised when Kate entered, carrying a tray.

"I hope you're hungry," she said, as she headed over to the table in the corner. "I brought a lot."

"Enough for three people," John commented, as he eyed the heaping plates.

Kate shrugged. "I figured I'd join you, if you don't mind." She moved to his bed side. "Carson told me about your nightmare. Well, he told me you had one that was bad enough to land you on the floor for the rest of the night."

John grimaced, but he didn't deny it. He had learned, a long time ago, that when dealing with a shrink it was best to stick as close to the truth as possible, and to own up to the things they had already caught you out on. "Is this an official session?" he asked, as he pushed back the covers and slid out of bed. Standing was wonky for a moment, but Kate grabbed his arm, which grounded him enough for the dizziness to pass. Realistically he knew it was probably caused by hunger. Not that John felt hungry, but he knew his body was starving for fuel.

"It can be official," Kate allowed, as she helped John over to the table. She sat down after he did.

"Might as well make it so," John replied. He let Kate set a plate in front of him, taking her own then removing the tray. Eyeing a piece of toast, John took a small bite. His stomach didn't protest it too much and a swallow of juice seemed to help.

Kate took a bite of eggs, chewed and swallowed, then said, "Will you tell me about the dream?"

It was on the tip of John's tongue to tell her no, but then he reminded himself that she was only trying to help him get better. And he really wanted to get better. So he gave her an abbreviated version of the important details. "I killed everyone. Ronon and Teyla and Rodney. And Thalan was there telling me there were more to kill. So I killed Carson to get to Elizabeth." John paused for a moment as the scene replayed itself in his head. He closed his eyes and whispered, "She begged for her life...but I shot her anyway." He blinked hard then said softly, "That's when I woke up. When I felt the blood spatter on my face."

"Why do you think you dreamed that?" Kate prompted. She had given up on eating and was sitting there, watching him intently.

"Hell if I know," John replied, going for sarcastic. But then he fell silent a moment, contemplating what it might really mean. He knew that Kate had been right before, when she told him he might be blaming Elizabeth for not getting rid of Caldwell sooner. John looked at Kate and said, "Subconsciously I blame her for what Caldwell did to me. I blame her for not protecting me." He raised a hand to stop Kate from responding. He wasn't finished yet. "The thing is, it's not her place to protect me. Protecting people is what I do. But I guess a part of me expected her too anyway. I expected everyone to watch my back like I watch theirs." John sighed and pushed away from the table. "But no one did," he whispered. "Not their fault." He needed to remember that. It wasn't their fault.

Kate was by his side, a hand on his arm, her expression warm and sympathetic. "They shoulder some of the blame," she said gently. "We all do."

John felt anger and resentment welling up from deep inside him. He let it go, rising from the chair as he glared at Kate. Even though she wasn't the one he was pissed at. "I never wanted to be imprinted in the first place! But Rodney and Beckett thought it would be fine. Basically a scientific experiment we might learn something from and in the end even Caldwell agreed to that. But it was Elizabeth who really wanted it!" John began to pace as he remembered how he had felt at the time. "I know it was Phoebus doing it, I know that now, but then...she wanted it so all of my protests were overridden. And I let it go, I let it happen, because Caldwell was there. Because I didn't want to oppose Elizabeth in front of him." John stopped pacing, the anger falling away abruptly, leaving him feeling a bit dizzy. "It's my own fault, really. My own stupid fault. But after it happened, if our positions had been reversed, I wouldn't have let her be treated the way I was treated." John broke off, horrified and angry, his head aching. Pain stabbed through his temples, leaving him feeling sick. "I'm sorry...sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Why not?" Kate was by his side, easing him over to sit on the bed. "If that's how you feel, Colonel...then it's okay to say it."

"I'm so messed up," John whispered, wishing he could crawl into a dark hole and disappear. Although right now he would settle for a bullet in the brain. Quick and easy and painless. Then he wouldn't have to deal with anything anymore. A part of John realized he should be horrified by his thoughts, but he wasn't. He was just so damn tired of everything.

Kate was easing him back against the pillows. "You're getting better. What happened to you was wrong, and it was out of your control. You have every right to be angry about it. To be angry at the people you trusted to help you and who failed you."

John didn't want to hear that. He just wanted oblivion right now. Nothing made sense anymore anyway. "I'm tired," he whispered, pointedly closing his eyes.

"Okay." Kate grabbed a blanket and drew it over him. "Do you want me to get Beckett?"

"No." Nothing more to say and John just lay there, listening as Kate moved about the room for a moment. He slitted his eyes and watched her put the plates back on the tray, then pick it up and head for the door. The moment she was gone he closed his eyes again. But he didn't sleep. He was afraid to dream.

OoO

John struggled through two more days. He continued flushing the pill Beckett gave him, still feeling guilty about doing so. He forced himself to eat when meals were brought, forced himself to rest in between the dreams. He then begged Beckett to let him work out with Teyla. After talking with Teyla, Beckett agreed to it. He believed some physical exercise would be good for John.

So that how he found himself in the gym with Teyla. She made him stretch first, working the kinks out of muscles that hadn't been used for some time. It was a bit painful, but it felt good. Then they did a warm up routine, using the sticks. John mostly remembered the moves but his reaction and reflexes were sluggish. After a while he realized he wasn't able to focus well either. Teyla easily knocked the sticks from his hands, time and time again.

She called a break and handed him a water bottle. "Do you wish to talk, John?" she asked him.

"Not really." He took a swig of water, feeling Teyla's eyes locked on him. "I talk enough with Kate," he said firmly.

"Will you listen then?" Teyla requested, somewhat formally.

John winced but nodded. He had a feeling he wasn't going to want to hear what she had to say, but he didn't want to be rude to her. She was a friend. "Sure, go ahead," he invited.

Teyla moved to face him, reaching out to touch his face with her fingertips until he was looking at her. "I wish to say that I am sorry."

"For what?" John was surprised because he couldn't think of anything Teyla had to be sorry for.

"I almost killed you," she whispered. "I would have if necessary."

John had almost forgotten about that. "We both know you had no choice and you've already apologized about it. Forget it."

Teyla looked surprised, then she countered, "Have you?"

"Yeah...I have." And it was the truth. He had forgotten about that part of the drama.

"What troubles you, John," Teyla prompted.

He definitely did not want to have this conversation. "I'm tired, I'm gonna go shower and take a nap. Thanks for the exercise." As he spoke John gathered up his sticks, stuffed them in his bag and headed for the door. When he reached his room he did shower, but by the time he came out and got dressed, someone was knocking on his door.

Rodney stood there, holding a tray. "Hungry?"

"Sure." John wasn't but he knew better than to turn down meals. Everyone was a snitch to Beckett about him these days. He stepped aside so Rodney could enter, then followed him over to the table.

"Um, Beckett wanted me to...um..." He broke off, looking painfully embarrassed.

John took pity on him and grabbed the pill bottle off the nightstand. He shook one out and popped it in his mouth, before striding over to the tray to grab the glass of milk he knew was for him. It was Beckett's new thing for him. Making sure John drank three glasses of milk a day. "Happy?" John asked, the pill safely ensconced under his tongue.

Rodney nodded, looking miserable. "Sorry about that."

"Forget it." John sat down at the table and reached for his pudding cup. Chocolate pudding. He took a spoonful, sucked half into his mouth, all the while pushing the pill into what was left. Then he put the cup back down, feeling Rodney watching him. "Just wanted to see if it was any good tonight," John explained. "The other night it tasted like chocolate flavored chalk."

"Yeah, that happens sometimes," Rodney commiserated, as he sat down across from John. "The stew looks pretty good tonight though."

John eyed the stuff, doubtfully, but made himself take a bite. "Not bad." He and Rodney then passed the next few minutes with stilted small talk. He just didn't have the energy for company right now, but he made the attempt so that Rodney would report back to Beckett that he was fine.

Rodney, thankfully, didn't seem to notice anything was amiss. He chatted on and on between bites.

All the while John poked at his food and tried to smile and respond in all the right places. He felt jittery today. On edge. His head ached and Rodney's not stop talking wasn't helping. In fact he was about to beg off the rest of the meal, pleading the need of a nap, when Rodney's radio went off. They both listened to Zelenka on the other end, then Rodney was on his feet, heading for the door.

He stopped and started back for the trays.

"I'll get them," John said, waving him off.

"Oh, good," Rodney replied. "I swear no one can run simple diagnostics without me." That said, he waved and was gone.

The sudden silence was bliss. John moved to the bed and collapsed on it. He fell asleep immediately but jolted awake from another nightmare, heart pounding in his chest, pain throbbing in his temples. He was shivering, skin slick with a cold sweat, so he pushed off the bed and headed for the shower, checking his watch. He'd only slept for an hour. John figured he'd shower, take care of the trays, then maybe go for a walk.

This time he took clothes in with him, having been caught out too many times in the past few weeks. Beckett was always walking in on him it seemed. By the time he was showered and dressed, John felt better. Until he returned to his room to find Beckett standing there, glaring at him. "What's wrong?" John asked, although he wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

Beckett was standing next to the table. He grabbed John's pudding cup then moved forward to shove it under his nose. Floating on top was the tiny, white, pill. "How long?" Carson demanded.

John knew what he was asking, he also knew he couldn't lie about it. "I haven't taken any of them."

"Dammit, Colonel!" Carson exploded. "I thought you wanted to get better?"

"I am getting better!" John shot back, his own anger flaring up. "You've said so yourself. Kate too! I'm getting better and I'm doing it without the DAMN PILLS!" He was so pissed off he was shaking now.

Carson almost flinched, taking a step back and making an obvious effort to get himself calmed down. He took a few deep breaths then said, "I actually came here to talk to you about your recovery, Colonel. I've spoken to Kate as well and we both agree that you should have been progressing better by now. And had you been taking the pills...you would have been. They would help you to control your nightmares. You would sleep better and that would help with the other issues. I told you, you need the pills to get you through this."

John didn't want to listen anymore."GET OUT!" he screamed at Beckett. "GET OUT AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" Invading Beckett's personal space, he continued his rant. "I don't need any of you! You weren't there for me before, why the hell should I think you give a damn now?" John knew he was out of control right now. He knew it but he didn't care. He stepped around Beckett and over to the mirror on the wall. He stared at his reflection for a moment, not recognizing the man staring back, then he cocked his fist and punched the mirror, watching it shatter. Then he punched the wall again...and again...and again.

He didn't stop. He welcomed the pain. Vaguely John was aware of Beckett screaming at him, of hands pulling at him. Then he was on the floor, struggling against the weight pushing him down. Screaming now, screaming and fighting until a sting in his shoulder brought the world crashing down upon him. John slid into oblivion.

THE END...of part 15


	16. Chapter 16

What's Left Behind – Chapter 16

Elizabeth scanned the infirmary as she entered. Quickly spotting Carson working on a patient, she hurried across the room, taking note of the still figure on the bed. John looked like he was sleeping, except for the strained expression on his face, almost as if he were in pain. Carson was putting the finishing touches on a cast on John's right hand.

"I was holed up in a meeting with some of the lead scientists and I just got your message. What happened?"

As Beckett eased John's arm down to the bed, she saw anger flash in his eyes and she knew she wasn't going to like this.

"Bloody fool. He hasn't taken any of the anti-depressant pills I've been giving him for almost a week now. I thought we had enough in his system to start really making a difference and helping him, but he's been ditching them since the beginning."

Elizabeth was stunned and her open mouth and wide eyes only accented the emotion. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

"I went to check on him and his food tray was sitting there with his pill floating around in his pudding. I guess he's been stashing them in his uneaten food. When I confronted him, he admitted he hadn't taken any of them." Beckett ran his hand through his hair as he sighed heavily. "And then we yelled for a minute or two . . . and he said we didn't care about him . . . and then he punched his mirror and moved on to the wall."

Beckett looked up at her, the anger gone and replaced by a sadness she hadn't seen since the retrovirus had John on death's door. "He was out of control, Elizabeth. He just kept hitting the wall and yelling until I knocked him to the floor and sedated him."

Elizabeth walked closer to John's bed and looked down at his hands. Tiny cuts were scattered across the fingers of his left hand. The right hand was in a cast, once again with tiny cuts on the fingers. "Are the cuts from the mirror?"

"Aye, and he broke two bones in his hand as well. He was hitting the wall as hard as he could. Even as strong as the Ancients made this place, he did some damage to his quarters."

Elizabeth's brow was deeply furrowed. "What do we do now? I'm assuming this has set him back."

"We're probably all the way back to where we started, or maybe even farther. I don't really know what comes next. We need to wait until he wakes up and talk to him. I probably need to contact Kate and let her know what's happened." Beckett shook his head in obvious frustration. "For a few days I honestly thought we were making progress."

"I still think we made some progress. Kate got him to talk about things that gave her some idea about what was going on in his head. Maybe it'll make things go more quickly this time, maybe we'll know what to watch for better. We can't give up on him, Carson." Elizabeth knew she probably sounded like she was begging, but she would do what was necessary to help John. She had already let him down once, she wasn't going to abandon him as well.

"No one's giving up on him, I promise you that. We'll stick with him as long as it takes." Beckett figured that was the least they could do since he felt they had helped create the problem in the first place.

oOo

John first noticed the way his tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of his mouth. He felt sluggish and heavy and he knew he'd been sedated. As consciousness slowly crept in, he polled his body, finding his right hand not only hurt, but wouldn't seem to move properly. He wasn't quite awake enough yet to figure out a possible reason. He could open his eyes, but he just didn't want to. He lay there for several minutes, listening to the sounds of movement and muffled talking around him.

"Colonel, I know you're awake. Can we talk?" He immediately recognized Carson's voice, Not much way to incorrectly identify that Scottish brogue. He allowed his eyes to slide open and blinked heavily against the gritty feeling it produced. As long as his eyes were open, he looked down at his hand to see what the problem was. "I broke my hand?"

Carson sighed. "Yes, Colonel, that's what happens when you hit the wall repeatedly with that much force." Carson knew the anger and frustration he felt came out in his tone of voice, but he felt Sheppard needed to hear some of it.

John looked up at Carson, wide-eyed. "I remember hitting the mirror, I think, but not the wall."

"You don't remember pounding the wall until you broke two bones in your hand?"

John squinted, deep in thought. He remembered Beckett finding the pill and them fighting. He remembered feeling more angry than he ever had in his life, to the point he punched the mirror. And then . . . that was where it ended. It was like time stopped there.

"Colonel?"

John returned his focus to Carson. "No, I don't remember hitting the wall, just the mirror." He wondered if he should be worried about that. It was then that he noticed something that surprised him. "I'm not in restraints."

"No, Colonel, you're not. I didn't want to use them unless I had to. I don't need to get them out, do I?"

"No," he said quietly. He shuddered at the thought of being tied down again.

Carson crossed his arms as he gazed down at Sheppard. "We need to talk."

John could feel the anger rising again, threatening to overwhelm him. The force of it made him feel sick and dizzy as they started their battle all over again. "What you mean is you'll talk and tell me what I can and can't do and I have to sit and listen. Maybe I'm tired of being told what to do. I'm not taking your pills!"

Beckett sucked in a deep breath, not expecting this strong a reaction before he had even started talking to the pilot. "Colonel, you need to calm down. When I said we are going to talk, I meant both of us. I just want to figure out where we are in all of this."

"I'm royally screwed is where we're at, so what else is new?"

Beckett was a bit taken aback by the bitterness in Sheppard's voice. "We're just trying to help you, you have to know that."

"Don't bother," he said with a hard, humorless laugh. He felt his insides going cold again, the lethargy washing over him and trying to smother him. He just wanted to be left alone. He reached up and rubbed his head with his left hand, a headache beginning to gnaw at the inside of his skull. "Just leave me alone."

Beckett realized that he wasn't going to get anywhere talking at the moment. He just hoped Sheppard would calm down and open up later. "Can I get you something to eat?"

"No," came the simple and expected reply.

Beckett thought about pointing out that he would have to eat sometime, but decided the best course of action was to let the Colonel be for a while. "All right, lad. Let me know if you need anything." He only hoped tomorrow would be easier.

oOo

Elizabeth looked up as Kate and Carson entered her office, their expressions grim. Her heart dropped a few inches, knowing who the visit was about and that it wasn't good news. If she needed any further indication of how serious they were, Carson closed the door behind him.

"Elizabeth, we need to talk to you."

She nodded and gestured to the chairs, not willing to speak until she somehow swallowed the lump in her throat. As soon as they sat down, Carson spoke up.

"We're not making any progress. I know that isn't what you want to hear, but it's the honest truth. He won't talk to either of us, except an occasional short yes or no answer. He refuses to eat, much less take the medication. He's shut himself off and given up. He just keeps telling me to leave him alone."

Elizabeth was startled. She had visited him a few times and knew he hadn't been cooperating, but hadn't realized it was so serious. "He hasn't eaten at all? It's been almost a week."

Beckett shook his head. "Not a bite."

Elizabeth rubbed her forehead a second. "Why is he doing this?"

Kate moved forward in her seat a few inches as she began to address the question. "We have a couple of theories on that. Depression does play havoc on the digestive system and we know the Colonel is very susceptible to that from his inability to keep down food before. It could be that he's suffering the same sort of trouble now and just doesn't want to start vomiting again. It could also be a control issue. He's lost control over everything in his life and this could be a way of reestablishing at least a small element of control. Another possibility is he's punishing himself. He's expressed about an equal amount of disappointment in our ability to protect him as well as in his ability protect others around him. He carries an enormous amount of guilt. It could be a combination of these."

"Elizabeth," said Carson, "the thing is that I can't let him go on like this indefinitely. He was seriously underweight and weak from his earlier bouts with the nausea and the catatonic state. He's already as low as he can go safely and we have to do something to correct it now. If he doesn't eat by tomorrow, I'm putting in a temporary feeding tube. I'll run a tube from his nose down to his stomach and feed him that way until we can get him to eat again."

Elizabeth blew out a deep breath, trying to convince herself that this was some really bad nightmare and if she just hung on a few more seconds, she would wake up. But she knew, with entirely too much clarity, that this was no dream. "Carson, you can't do that. He's barely hanging on by a thread. I can't even begin to imagine what that will do to him. There has to be another way."

Beckett shook his head. "Not unless you want to sacrifice his physical well being. He's so weak he can only stand with help. He can't even make it to the bathroom by his self any more. I'm going to tell him when we're done here, but I wanted you to know. Maybe you could talk to him."

"I . . . I can try. I don't know what I could say that hasn't already been said, but I'll certainly try. Surely he won't actually push this that far." She looked from Carson to Kate, but neither of them would look her in the eye. "You think he will, don't you?"

Kate shrugged her shoulders. "He can be stubborn sometimes. If this is his only element of control, he's going to be reluctant to give it up."

Oh crap. How had they gone from a simple imprinting that was going to last a few hours to John on a feeding tube? She suddenly wished she had that time-traveling puddle jumper so she could go back and tell them to leave the pod with Phoebus out in space.

oOo

Elizabeth was shocked that even though she had visited John several times since the episode in his quarters, she apparently hadn't actually _seen_ him in some time. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed how dull and lifeless his eyes had become or how hollow and sunken his face was. How had she missed the way the scrubs hung loosely on his gaunt form or how thin his arms had become? His skin wasn't so much pale as it seemed almost translucent. She was startled to find the evidence sitting obviously before her that she had refused to see. John was quite literally starving himself to death. She shuddered as she thought about how she had let him down, yet again.

"John?"

John shifted his eyes to see Elizabeth tentatively approaching his bed. She looked a little like she'd just seen a ghost and it took a few seconds for him to register that the ghost was him. There was a time when he would have sat up and tried to look a little more presentable, but he just didn't have the energy or the desire any more. He just wanted this to be over, all of it.

Elizabeth took his left hand in hers, careful of the IV that had been started in his forearm. His thin fingers lay limply in hers, feeling cold against her warm flesh. "John, I just talked to Kate and Carson. Carson said you really need to eat. John, I know you're . . . " She faltered a minute, the tears welling up in her eyes as emotion swelled in her throat where she couldn't speak. She was losing him and it was her fault. Her breath hitched as she fought for control.

John just watched behind an emotionless mask, faint regret stirring within, but not surfacing enough for him to act on. He watched the emotional battle with little more than slight interest in whether or not she would get her speech out before she cried.

Elizabeth finally succeeded in getting her voice back and tightened her grip on John's hand, as much for her benefit as for his. "Sorry about that. Anyway, Carson said if you don't eat by tomorrow, he'll have to insert a temporary feeding tube. I know he doesn't want to, but you're scaring us. I hate to admit it, but I haven't let myself see how thin you've become. I haven't let myself see that you're starving yourself because I didn't want to see it, I didn't want it to be true. John, I know you're angry with me and . . . well, with all of us to some degree. I know that we've let you down again and again. I can only tell you that we didn't mean to and that we were only doing what we thought was best at the time. Some serious mistakes were made, most of them mine. I'm just asking you to let us help you now. We want you to get better. We need you, Atlantis needs you."

John looked back up at her, seeming to pay attention for the first time. "No you don't, no one needs me. Let me go Elizabeth. I'm broken and you can't fix me, no one can. Just send me back to Earth. It hurts too much to be here." He pulled his hand away from her and turned over on his side, his back to her. That simple act seemed to take every ounce of strength he had and she could hear his labored breath for several seconds as he recovered from the effort.

She felt the tears stinging her cheeks again and she wiped them quickly away. "Please John, don't do this. If you're broken, then we did it and we aren't sending you away. We don't leave our people behind and that includes you. We drove you to this place and we won't quit until we bring you back, so you might as well stop telling us to. We can help you, but you have to let us. Just eat something and then we can talk, you can talk."

"I'm not eating. Go away." He pulled the blanket up tightly around his bony shoulders and pushed his face down into the pillow.

Elizabeth put her hand on his shoulder. "Please, just think about it. In spite of what you think right now, we care about you very deeply John Sheppard. We won't let you drive us away." She gave his arm a final squeeze and left before the tears overtook her again. When she reached the hall, Kate and Carson were standing just outside the infirmary doors and she almost barreled right into them. Carson caught her by the arms and steadied her.

"Slow down, lass. I take it things didn't go well."

"Oh, Carson. How did I not see this? How did I not see how bad it was or how close he was to starving himself? I feel like such an idiot."

Kate shook her head. "No, you're not an idiot. Sometimes it's hard to see how low the ones we love have sunk. That's why outside help is often needed in cases like this."

Elizabeth just nodded. "I don't think he'll eat."

Carson put his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "Aye, I'm afraid you're probably right. We'll do what we need to in order to keep him alive and hope that eventually he'll let us help him."

oOo

John lay in the infirmary watching the activity around him all morning. After waking from another nightmare in the middle of the night, he'd lain awake, waiting on the dawn and the increase in activity that accompanied it. This nightmare had at least been different than most of his others. The Wraith had captured him and were force feeding him through a tube to fatten him up before they made a meal out of him. That somehow made him think of Hansel and Gretel and then he thought of leaving a trail of breadcrumbs through a hive ship to find his way back out. But he hadn't needed the trail out because in the end, they successfully added the pounds to him and made quite a feast. He probably would have been sick if he'd had anything in his stomach, but since he didn't, he was able to swallow back the bile that rose in his throat.

So he lay there, trying not to think of what was to come. But he'd made his stand and he was sticking to it. They had taken everything away from him, stripped him of every possible freedom. They could tell him to eat, but they couldn't actually make him. Well, there was the feeding tube, but that wasn't the same as making him eat. If he stayed his ground, eventually they would have to leave him alone and he could just drift, not having to listen to stupid speeches or be expected to answer stupid questions. He wasn't aware that his eyes had closed or that he had begun to doze until Carson's voice startled him.

"Colonel?"

He looked up at the doctor. He wasn't so far gone that he didn't see the pain in his eyes or that he didn't feel something deep down inside. He just didn't feel it enough to respond to it.

"It's time. I need to know if you're willing to eat something. I could send Marcy out for some broth if you'd like to try."

John took a deep breath and fueled his reserve. "No, I told you, I'm not eating."

Beckett sighed and John couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction as he realized that the physician had expected him to cave in when the time came, like he had before. He knew he was going to hate this, but he kept reminding himself that he was in control.

"John, please, don't make me do this." John smiled the saddest smile Beckett had ever seen.

"You've slowly taken everything away. I've been told for weeks what I can and can't do and where I can and can't go. I've been told when I could leave my quarters and when to eat and when to pee and when to take pills and when to sleep. I'm sick of it. I don't want to eat and I don't want your stupid pills and I'm not doing it, so leave me alone!"

Beckett nodded. "All right lad, you leave me no choice." He turned around and called to one of the nurses, who carried over a tray with a cloth over it. Beckett reached under the cloth and pulled out a syringe, emptying into Sheppard's IV port.

John's stomach tightened in fear and dread. "What's that?"

"It's just a little something to relax you and make this a tad easier on both of us I hope."

Beckett raised the head of the bed so that John was sitting up as the nurse walked around to the other side of the bed. Next, the physician removed the cloth covering the tray and began to put on a pair of gloves, the nurse standing ready to help. He then picked up a long, clear tube and began to place something on the end.

"All right, Colonel, this may be somewhat uncomfortable. I'll be inserting a nasogastric tube through your nostril and threading it down to your stomach. I have some ice chips or some water, which ever you prefer and I'll need you to swallow some periodically to help me advance the tube. I'll then be able to get some nourishment into you and hopefully keep you from starving to death. Do you have any questions?"

Beckett paused, watching Sheppard, obviously hoping the man would change his mind.

"No, I don't want that thing in me."

Beckett seemed almost relieved as he let out a deep breath. "So, you'll eat something?"

"No, I'm not eating and you're not putting that tube in me." Even as he protested and planned on putting up a fight, he could feel the sluggishness working its way through him. Beckett and his drugs, taking one more thing away from him.

Beckett's expression hardened and his jaw tightened. "Colonel Sheppard, you will eat today one way or another. If you won't feed yourself, then I'll do it through this tube, even if I have to do it by force."

John glared at him. "You do what you have to do and so will I." John turned his head away from Beckett and began to slouch down further into the bed. He didn't see Beckett nod to the nurse or the nurse go for reinforcements. The next thing he knew, his movements were even more uncoordinated and sluggish and being hampered by two male techs and the nurse. His arms were put in restraints and he was held back against the pillow by one man while the other held his head still. He jerked and pulled and struggled, but he was too weak and drugged to actually put up much of a fight.

He closed his eyes tightly against the invasion as he felt the nurse spray something in his nose. Then the tube was going in and he could feel it advancing down the back of his throat. He gagged until what little bile and fluid was in his stomach came up all over him and the people holding him down. He didn't care, if it only meant they would stop. Bucking and trying to pull away from the hands holding him down, he just wanted to scream or pass out or die, he didn't much care which at this point. The taste in his mouth was nasty and he felt a cup pressed to his lips. He swallowed a few sips to get the taste out of his mouth and throat and realized too late that he'd been tricked. He had inadvertently helped them move the tube down his throat. He started gagging again, bringing up the little bit of water he'd just swallowed.

He could feel the tube and he pulled violently on the restraints, wanting desperately to grab the thing and pull it out. He struggled against them as they fought to get him settled and clean him up until the gray haze that had been swimming around him since they began finally settled in enough to completely overtake him. He could feel hands on him and hear the noise of voices in the background as he faded away and silently hoped he would never wake up.

THE END . . . of part 16.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Thanks to those of you who have stuck with the story so far. We are trying to start winding down toward the end and things will begin to look up soon (should provide some relief for those of you falling into your own bout of depression - LOL). Also, special thanks to Kat for helping us with some information about anti-depressants and for the use of the term "happy pills".

What's Left Behind – Chapter 17

He woke up gagging on something in his throat. He tried to cough and dislodge it, but it was still there, choking him. He began to pull and struggle, madly trying to get his hand up to his mouth, but it wouldn't move. As panic began to fill him, he pulled and jerked more forcefully and blinked away the sleep matting his eyes. Suddenly there were hands pushing him back and holding his arms and voices trying to soothe him. The touch was gentle and the voice was soft, so he slowed his struggles as a face came into focus.

"Colonel Sheppard, it's okay. Just try and relax, you're okay and you're safe. Just take it easy and relax."

He looked up into the smiling face of one of the nurses. He could see a second one walking away, apparently no longer needed. "What . . . " He had stopped struggling, but it took a few seconds for him to remember why he couldn't move around and why he still felt like gagging. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back to the pillow as his body went limp. Restraints and feeding tube. He remembered losing the battle and the subsequent humiliation. He didn't smell like vomit, so he assumed they had gotten him cleaned up while he slept. Oh yes, cleaned up and decked out in a fresh hospital gown and hooked up to a nice catheter to boot. He now had tubes putting things in and other ones taking things out.

"Colonel, are you all right? Can I get you anything?"

John opened his eyes and chuckled, realizing it made him sound a little mad. "Yes, as a matter of fact you can. You can remove the restraints and all the tubes you have stuck in me for starters."

He watched her face fall and he almost felt guilty for putting her on the spot. "I'm sorry, I can't do that. Would you like some water or anything?"

"I think it's safe to say that you can't get me anything I really want." He watched the nurse walk away and the tried to shift in the bed. His stomach felt unusually full and it made him uneasy. Everything was uncomfortable and he was beginning to feel wired. He knew it was useless to pull against the restraints, and yet he found himself doing just that. Shifting and pulling, he tried to lean forward, wishing there was some way of getting the feeding tube to dislodge, but nothing was moving. He finally leaned back against the pillows, exhausted.

"Giving up or just taking a break?" He looked up to see Carson watching him and wondered how long the man had been there.

John sighed. "Giving up, I guess. It seems to be the only thing I'm good at lately."

"Colonel, I hope you know I only did this to keep you alive. I can't stand by and watch you starve yourself to death."

"I know, you took an oath."

"That's why you think I'm doing this, for some bloody oath? Yes I took an oath and yes, it's important to me, but I'm doing this because you're a friend and I care about you. Are you really so hard headed that you can't see that?"

"It doesn't really matter any more, does it?" he asked softly. "Just leave me alone."

Beckett stood watching him a few more seconds, trying to think of something he could say to make the man understand, something that hadn't already been said. He couldn't think of a thing. He wanted to reach out and comfort Sheppard, to tell him that things would get better, but he knew it was too early for that. Sheppard was still too angry and too frustrated to listen.

"I'll just be in my office then. Tell one of the nurses if you need me or if you change your mind about eating."

John looked up at the bag of stuff currently connected to the feeding tube and had to work to keep from gagging again. "I think that's already been taken care of, but thanks anyway."

Beckett just turned and went to his office, his hands in his pockets as he stared at his path along the floor.

oOo

"Carson?" Elizabeth stepped into the office as he lifted his head from the folder he was staring at.

"Oh, hi Elizabeth, come in. I suppose you're here to check on the Colonel?"

Elizabeth nodded nervously. "How'd it go today?"

Carson sighed as he closed the folder and placed it on his desk. "He's upset, but then we expected that. He was very restless and agitated up through mid afternoon. He kept struggling and pulling at the restraints. I'm surprised he had the energy to fight it as much as he did. He finally dozed off about two hours ago and I'm not sure if he's still asleep or just pretending so he doesn't have to talk to anyone."

"Can I see him?"

Beckett hesitated for a few seconds. "I haven't been letting him have visitors today. I felt he just needed some time to adjust to the tube and his situation. He seems to have gotten over the gagging stage, but I don't want him getting agitated again. This is all very humiliating for him and the loss of control is a big issue right now. However, . . . maybe it's time he saw someone besides me. I don't think he likes me very much right now."

"Carson, if he doesn't realize why you're doing this now, he will eventually."

The doctor rubbed his chin. "Aye, but that doesn't make it any the more pleasant right now. Come on and we'll go check on him." He led her out to Sheppard's bed. As they got close enough they could see him, he was aware of her sharp intake of breath as she stopped moving.

Elizabeth felt almost like she'd had the wind knocked out of her. His appearance was even more frightening than the day before. He was propped up into a semi-sitting position, but with his hands locked into restraints at his side. A clear tube snaked down from a pole to be taped to the side of his face before disappearing into his right nostril. The contrast in color between his pale face and his dark hair was shocking. His face was so lined and pulled in distress that he looked many years older and very fragile. She took a deep, shuddering breath as Carson turned to check on her. He tried to give her an encouraging smile, but it didn't hold it's usual warmth.

"He's not as bad as he looks," whispered Carson.

Elizabeth just nodded, hoping he was right. Carson immediately began checking vital signs as they reached John. He didn't flinch until the doctor started checking the NG tube, and as soon as he touched it, John's eyes flew open and he pulled away.

"Huh?" he moaned, his eyes groggy with sleep. She saw his hands instinctively pull up against the restraints before he was awake enough to remember. She walked around to the other side of the bed as his eyes rolled and blinked in an effort to pull away from sleep. Beckett nodded to her to indicate that everything looked okay and then he slipped out, heading back to his office.

Elizabeth put her hands on John's arm. "Hey, how are you doing?"

He looked at her lifelessly for a few moments until she wondered if he had heard her. Finally, he licked his lips and said softly, "Been better."

She picked up the pitcher on the stand next to his bed and poured some water into a cup. As she reached out to put the cup to his lips, she said, "Water?"

He managed to get several sips down without gagging too bad or dribbling it everywhere and for that he was grateful. His mouth was incredibly dry as he found himself trying to breathe more from his mouth than his nose. He felt like he was smothering when he tried the latter, so he just avoided it. "Thanks," he whispered, his voice feeling rough and gravely. He looked up into Elizabeth's face and realized she looked almost like she was in pain. He quickly diverted his eyes down to his feet, not wanting to see or to feel. The emotional void he'd slipped into earlier was looking more and more enticing.

"John, how did it come to this? I know that has to be uncomfortable and you could fix it so easily if you'd just agree to eat. I don't understand why you're doing this to yourself, or to us. Why won't you let us help you?"

"We've been over this," he said flatly. "Just let it go, let _me_ go. Send me back to Earth and I won't be of concern any more."

"No, that's where you're wrong. Every person on this expedition has earned a special place in my heart, most especially the people that came that first year we were here. But you, John, you more than anyone. We've survived a lot together. We haven't always agreed, but we've worked together and I've developed what I thought was a very special friendship with you as we shared a lot of excitement and heartache in a way no one else could understand. I thought I knew you, that we knew each other. But the John Sheppard that I've come to know and respect is not a quitter, he's a fighter. He wouldn't just lie around and ask to go home."

She wanted to see anger or passion or concern, anything but the emptiness that stared back at her.

"The John Sheppard you knew is gone. He's been whittled away for two years and there just isn't anything left. I've killed a lot of people, caused a whole galaxy a lot of problems, generally screwed up from day one. I've been trying to blame everyone else for this fiasco, but when you really think about it, I've been heading for this pit for a while now. This was just the last thing to push me over. I don't have anything left to give. I'm tired and I just want it to end."

Elizabeth gasped and her eyes widened. "Oh my God, you really _have_ given up. I thought that . . . I didn't think you'd . . . " She backed away from him, her mouth moving as if she wanted to say more, but obviously couldn't find the words. She finally shook her head. "I'm sorry, John. I just . . . " she finally turned and hurried from the infirmary, trying to process the fact that he had indeed given up the fight.

oOo

Mid-morning of the next day, Ronon and Teyla walked into the infirmary. John was awake and watched them as they came in. He saw Ronon make eye contact with him a few steps into the room. The Satedan froze, shock registering on his face. Teyla also looked surprised for a moment, before gaining control of herself and neutralizing her expression. He saw Ronon say something to her and they exchanged words for a few minutes. If he hadn't been so apathetic about everything in general, he might have laughed at the discomfort of the runner. Ronon finally shook his head and backed out of the infirmary, staring at John in disbelief the whole time. Teyla finally turned back around and walked over to stand by John's bed.

"Good morning Colonel Sheppard. I have come to see how you are feeling?"

"Great. Don't have to move a muscle, not even to eat or pee. This is a lazy man's dream. Did I scare the big guy off?"

Teyla shifted uneasily. "Ronon is . . . disturbed at seeing you so. He feels it is not a proper way to treat a warrior such as yourself."

"I always knew I liked him. Tell him I said thanks for the sentiment, but not to worry about it. You guys will be okay without me."

"We will be all right until such time as you are ready to return to us."

"You're not getting the big picture here, Teyla. I'm not coming back."

Teyla frowned and he saw a flash of anger. For a moment he thought she looked like she wanted to kick someone's butt. "Who had told you this?"

John sighed. "No one told me, I'm telling you. This is the end of the line for me. I can't do this any more."

Teyla put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed firmly. "Yes, you can, John. And we will wait, not matter how long it takes. We will not let you quit."

John eased his head back onto the pillow and closed his eyes. He was getting tired of fighting the same battle over and over. He wished he could return to the shadows that had protected him from everyone earlier. He preferred nothingness to this constant fight of telling people to leave him alone. "I'm tired, Teyla"

He was tired, but mostly tired of people. He was aware of Teyla touching his fore head with hers, but refused to open his eyes or acknowledge the act.

"I will hold you in my prayers, John."

He welcomed the silence that followed.

oOo

John jerked awake, his heart thudding in his chest. He could feel a drop of sweat sliding down the side of his face, tickling as it went. He pulled reflexively; wanting to wipe it away, but still unable to move his arms. He hated the restraints, but Beckett knew if they removed them, the first thing he would do is yank the feeding tube out. He lay in the semi-darkness of the infirmary and wondered how long they would keep this up. They couldn't feed him this way forever. It was just a matter of time before they packed him up and shipped him out. He didn't want to return to Earth, but he couldn't stay in Atlantis like this, it was eating him up. He figured he'd just end up in the psych ward of some hospital, shuffling around talking to himself.

"Nightmare?"

He jumped at the sudden sound of the voice, breaking the nighttime silence. He glanced around and found Rodney standing in the corner several feet away.

"What are doing over there?"

Rodney stood still for a few more moments before moving closer to the bed and plopping down in a chair. "Just thinking. You didn't answer my question."

John wanted so badly to be able to move his arms, to wipe the sweat from his face, to rub his eyes. Funny how those simple acts became so important. He fought the urge to pull at the restraints and scream for them to let him go. "Yes, I had a nightmare!" he snapped. He suddenly felt trapped and angry and began tugging at the restraints. He just wanted to get loose and run as far away as possible.

"What about?" Rodney looked calm and detached, his quietness very un-McKay like.

John finally lay back against the bed and stopped struggling, his body tired and weary from the fight of the past three days. The anger dissolved almost as quickly as it had come and he felt lethargy seeping in to replace it. "Same one I keep having lately. The Wraith are fattening me up with a feeding tube and then they take turns feeding off me. Gee, I wonder where that idea came from?" He closed his eyes and willed for Rodney to leave.

It was quiet for several minutes and John thought Rodney had left. He opened his eyes to find Rodney was not only still there, but staring at him. "What?"

Rodney just sighed and shook his head. "I just wanted to look at someone who is obviously perfect?"

John frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Rodney got up and began pacing. "I mean you must be perfect, you know, never made a mistake. You obviously can't understand or forgive the fact that we screwed up. We should have taken over and thrown Caldwell out. We should have come to bat for you sooner and we didn't. We've all told you how sorry we are and explained that we are behind you, but you don't care. I can only figure it's because you yourself have never made a mistake that hurt your friend and wished with all your might you could go back in time and fix it."

"That's not it, McKay," John said softly.

"Then what is it? Because frankly, I don't understand what's going on here. How do you do this to yourself? How do you subject yourself to this kind of torture on purpose? What is wrong with you?" He knew his voice was angry and harsh, but he was so frustrated that he didn't care.

John felt like something was sitting on his chest, crushing his chest. His breaths came is fast shallow pants. "Because I'm really screwed up, McKay."

John's voice was so soft that Rodney barely heard him. He moved over to stand next to the bed and placed his hand tentatively on Sheppard's shoulder as he said softly, "If you know that, then why won't you let us help you?"

John closed his eyes. "I don't know how."

oOo

Elizabeth stepped into the infirmary and stood in the doorway, watching John in the bed across the room. She was once again amazed at how much a shell of his former self he was. Thin and hollow and broken. She knew he had somehow shifted from blaming them to blaming himself, but she still felt incredibly guilty. She had helped destroy one of the best men she'd ever known and she had no idea how she was going to live with it. She saw Beckett approaching in her peripheral vision, but she didn't turn to him. She couldn't take her eyes off John, or what was left of him.

"Good morning, Elizabeth."

"How is he today?"

"Ah, he's barely spoken a word to anyone. He just lays there. Elizabeth, it's been four days now. I can't be feeding him like this indefinitely. If this is going to be long term, then . . . I'll need to do something more permanent."

Elizabeth could tell that Carson was uncomfortable with the thought of surgically implanting a feeding tube. "That won't be necessary. We're not helping him, and as much as I hate the thought of giving up on him, we need to do what's best for John, not for us. I'm contacting the SGC later today to let them know we need to . . . we need to send John home."

Beckett sighed as he reached out to take Elizabeth's trembling hand. "I know that was not an easy decision for you to make, lass. I hate to lose him, but you're right, he's just wasting away here. Maybe someone there can help him. At the very least, they can provide better long-term care, if that's what he ends up needing."

Elizabeth nodded. "I'm going to go tell him." She walked over to John's bed and pulled the chair up beside him. "John, I need to talk to you."

She waited on him to respond, but he just stared at the ceiling, his features slack and unmoving, except for an occasional blink of his eyes. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

"John, I've done a lot of thinking the last few days and several things have become painfully clear. Most notably is that you are not getting any better. You're wasting away physically and mentally and we don't seem to be able to help you in either respect. I'm contacting the SGC later today to tell them you are to return to Earth on the Daedalus their next visit so that maybe we can get you the help you need. I thought we could help you, that we could make you better, but I was wrong. It's time to start considering your needs instead of mine, so you'll get your wish to return to Earth."

She watched, but saw no reaction. She was beginning to think he'd slipped back into a catatonic state and wasn't even listening to her. She took another deep breath, though, and decided to finish while she had the courage.

"The other thing I've been thinking about is how poorly I've handled this situation. I made a lot of serious mistakes, many of which are what led you to the position you're in now. If you're messed up John, it's because of my poor leadership skills and I take full responsibility for that. Atlantis needs you and I've destroyed that. I don't want to hurt Atlantis or the expedition any more. That's why that report I send later today will include my resignation. I'll be accompanying you back to Earth and I'll make sure you are well taken care of."

"No!"

Elizabeth startled at the sudden, loud protest. She had been convinced she would get no response, so she was shocked at his outburst. He had turned to look at her and his face was lined with stress.

"You can't leave. Atlantis needs you. This expedition needs you."

Elizabeth shook her head. She'd thought long and hard and she had made the right decision. "No they don't. Kavanagh was right in some respects, I am a poor leader. I thought I could handle this, but I'm not. They need someone better than me."

"No, Elizabeth, there is no one better than you. You told me one time that this was the dream assignment you've waited on your whole life. Don't give it up because of me."

"John, I've made up my mind and this is the best decision. Just because I love it here doesn't mean I'm right for the job. I'm going home with you and that's final."

John was suddenly agitated, pulling on the restraints and moving around like he was trying to get out of bed. "No, you can't. It's not right, you need to stay here. Please, please don't do this."

Elizabeth stood and pushed him back. "Calm down. It's okay, John, I promise. I'll find another job. I'll be okay. My main concern is getting you better. Listen, I'll send Carson in to check on you. I've got to finish getting things ready to send in our message to the SGC later today." She turned to leave, but hadn't gone two steps when he frantically called to her.

"Don't go. If you won't resign, I'll eat."

She froze, her mind whirring. She hadn't seen that coming and it made her insides drop from a dizzying height.

"Stay in Atlantis. Promise me you will and I'll do whatever Carson and Kate want, I'll even take their pills."

She slowly turned to face him. "John, that's not why I made this decision. It's not a blackmail tool."

"I know, but I believe in you. I know I said some things earlier, that I was angry with you about what happened. But I truly believe you are the best person to run Atlantis and I don't want you to leave. Can we just try?"

Elizabeth walked over to the bed and picked up John's hand, careful of the cast. "You really will do what they say? You'll eat and take the meds and talk to Kate?"

John swallowed hard. "I give you my word. No more faking the pills or hiding things."

Elizabeth leaned over and hugged him, but it was awkward with his arms in restraints. She stood back up and looked down at him, wiping the tears from her face. "If I take those off, do you promise not to get up or pull any tubes out?"

"I promise," he whispered hoarsely. When she removed the restraints, he rubbed his wrists and moved his stiff arms around before reaching out and pulling her to him. She sat on the edge of the bed as they embraced, both tearing up and full of emotion. They held onto each other tightly for several minutes before they were interrupted.

"Elizabeth, lass, what's going on?" Carson Beckett stood mesmerized by the two leaders embracing like long lost friends. He felt a moment of panic when he saw Sheppard was not in restraints, but he calmed as he noted that he didn't seem to be trying to pull anything loose.

Elizabeth lifted her head from John's shoulder enough to see Carson. "John says he's going to eat and take the pills you've prescribed."

Carson stood with his mouth open in shock for several seconds before breaking into a broad grin. "Did he now?" He wanted to ask what had happened to cause the change of heart, but quickly decided this was not the time. The only thing that mattered was that they were getting Sheppard back. "I'm thinking you'd probably like that NG tube removed, so I'll be back in a minute to do just that."

John clung tightly to Elizabeth, the desire to be left alone suddenly replaced by extreme relief at the close human contact. He was consumed by the desire to never let go, to never be that totally alone again. The thought of pulling away from Elizabeth was almost painful, and yet he knew it was coming. Until then he planned on hanging on for dear life and he kept his arms tightly wrapped around her. He could only hope he wasn't freaking her out too much.

"Colonel, I can remove the NG tube now if you like."

At Carson's offer, John finally loosened his grip on Elizabeth and pulled back. She smiled at him, a broad smile that matched the glint in her eyes. She slid off the bed, but sensing John's need for contact, she kept a firm grip on his hand.

"Don't go," he pleaded, his voice and eyes beckoning her to stay.

"I'm right here, John. I'm not going anywhere."

Beckett moved up to the head of the bed on the opposite side, a nurse beside him. After donning a pair of gloves, he turned to Sheppard. "Colonel, this may not be much more comfortable coming out that it was going in, but I think you'll like the end result much better. Are you ready?"

John tightened his grip on Elizabeth's hand and nodded.

"Okay, now just relax for me." Carson took hold of the tube where it entered John's nose and began to pull it out. John gagged once as the end of the tube tickled the back of his throat when it was being pulled free. The nurse handed John a cup of water when Beckett was finished. "Small sips, Colonel., and not too fast."

John took a few sips of water, his hand trembling slightly, and then handed the cup back to the nurse. He leaned his head back against the pillows and took a few deep breaths.

Beckett put the tube on the tray along with the gloves and gave it to the nurse. "How's that?"

"Better. Much better." John closed his eyes a few seconds, relishing the the act of swallowing without feeling like he was choking. "Never want to do that again."

"Beckett clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Me either lad. I don't know what changed your mind, but I'm grateful for it. I'll give you some time to get sorted and get you some soup after while."

John nodded. "Thanks, Doc."

Beckett grinned bigger than he remembered doing in a long time. That almost sounded like the old John Sheppard.

oOo

Beckett carried the tray with a bowl of soup over to Sheppard's bed and set it on the table. Elizabeth backed away from the bed and sat down in the chair as Beckett scooted the table over Sheppard's lap so he could eat.

"I believe it's some sort of Athosian vegetable soup, but whatever it is, it smells pretty good. Don't eat too fast, give your stomach time to process it a bit."

Sheppard looked at the table and then back up at Beckett. "What, no pill?"

Beckett sighed and rubbed the side of his face a few times. "Uh, Colonel, you aren't due for a dose til this evening."

Sheppard frowned. "I don't understand, what do you mean due for a dose?"

Elizabeth tilted her head a little to one side, obviously just as confused as Sheppard was.

Beckett hesitated for a few moments. "I, uh, have a confession to make. I started you on the anti-depressant medication through the feeding tube. You've been on it for the last three days, this afternoon being the fourth. You really need it to be in your system for about a week before it builds up enough to make a difference in the way you feel and sometimes it takes longer. I wanted to get started as soon as possible and the NG tube made a perfect delivery system."

Sheppard sat there, stunned, for several seconds. "Looks like I'm not the only one hiding stuff in my food." He realized it would be unfair to be angry at Beckett after what he'd done with the pills he was supposed to be taking. "No hard feelings, Doc. We both just did what we felt we had to do."

Beckett was immensely relieved. He had been afraid when he confessed what he'd been doing, Sheppard would clam up again. He felt there was one more thing he needed to address before any more time passed. "Colonel, I need to talk to you about one more thing. I'm very happy to see you cooperating and you seem as if your outlook has improved. Within the next few days, the medication should start to make you feel better as well. But I don't want you to get the idea that this will suddenly be easy. You still have a long way to go and there are going to be times when you are frustrated and upset and feel like giving up again. Just promise me that you'll remember this conversation and hand in there, ride it out, talk to one of us and let us help you. I know you aren't one to ask for help, but you are going to have to break that habit and start trusting us to do just that."

Sheppard looked down as he swirled his spoon in his soup. "I know it won't be easy. Part of me still wants to curl up in a ball and tell everyone to just get out and leave me alone. But Elizabeth helped me put things in perspective I think. I can only promise you that I'll try."

"That's all we can ask."

Sheppard looked up from his soup. "Doc, what are the chances of losing the . . . " He glanced at Elizabeth and then back to Beckett. " . . . the you –know-what and taking a shower?"

Beckett smiled. "Oh, I think we can take care of the first request after while. I don't think you realize how weak you are, Colonel. The shower will have to wait a day or two until you can stand that long."

Sheppard nodded. 'Okay, I can live with that." Beckett left and Elizabeth just smiled at him as he ate his soup. After a few bites, he turned to her. "You just gonna watch me eat?"

Elizabeth crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. "Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I waited for a long time for this and I'm watching every bite you take."

John grinned as he brought up another spoonful of soup and slurped loudly. "There you go, I'll even provide sound effects." As the sound of their laughter carried across the infirmary, they didn't notice Carson and one of the nurses giving each other a high five.

oOo

It was two more days before Beckett gave in on the shower. John didn't balk too much because he knew he wasn't strong enough to stand that long unaided and he didn't relish the idea of having to be rescued from the floor of the shower. He spent those two days having lots of talks with Kate and riding a roller coaster of emotions that oscillated between complete despair and moderately optimistic hope. His sleep patterns were totally wonky and his mood swings had everyone a little crazy. But he kept his word. He ate the meals that were brought to him, although sometimes he didn't finish every bite. And he took the pills Beckett gave him without arguing, even going so far as to flash Beckett an empty mouth to show he wasn't stashing them this time. Beckett assured him if he would just hang on a few days, the medication would kick in and things would get better.

When he finally was allowed to shower, his bright outlook took a bit of a beating. He was fine until the got out of the hot spray and began to dry off. It was then that he saw for the first time how truly emaciated he had become. He ran his hands along the protruding ribs and was shocked to see how much his hip bones stood out. He had seen his actions as a form of control and he was just now beginning to see what everyone else had seen all along. No wonder Elizabeth had threatened to send him back to Earth. How could he have been so stupid and blind?

When Beckett met him at the bathroom door to make sure he was okay, he babbled all the way back to the bed about being sorry for forcing Carson to resort to the feeding tube. Carson was concerned about his level of distress over the matter and kept assuring him that it was all right. As soon as Beckett had him tucked into bed, he went to his office and called Kate to come talk to the pilot, afraid he would drive himself back down into the depths of his depression.

One week after having the NG tube removed, John woke up to discover he'd slept all night without having a nightmare and, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he was genuinely hungry. He found himself joking lightly with the nurses while they gave him his morning check and waited for breakfast to come.

"Good morning John," said Elizabeth as she walked up to his bed carrying a cup of coffee. "You look . . . really good this morning. You look more relaxed and rested."

"I feel pretty good, actually. I guess Beckett's happy pills are doing the trick after all."

"Happy pills?"

"Yeah, sounds better than anti-depressants."

"So you can tell a difference now?"

"I think so. I've noticed over the last day or two that things are beginning not to bother me so much. Somehow they just don't seem so bad or as serious as they did before and I'm having fewer nightmares. I'm not what you'd call happy yet, just ask the nurses stuck working when I get into a funky mood, but it seems more tolerable now. I guess I'm just happy seeing a light at the end of the tunnel now where there wasn't one before. Elizabeth . . . thanks for sticking with me as long as you did. I just . . ." John ran his hand through his hair as he struggled for the right words. "I'm sorry for putting everyone through hell. I just didn't see it. I can't explain because I'm not sure I understand it myself. I'm just beginning to see what I was doing in some kind of realistic light and I . . . I don't know how I ever got that messed up. It's almost like it was someone else."

Elizabeth put her hand gently on John's uninjured hand. "It's okay. I talked with Kate and she explained a little about depression to me. I'm not going to pretend I know what it's like, but given everything that has happened; I can certainly see why you developed it. I'm just sorry for my part in it."

"No more apologies. We're going to look forward and move on past this. I know I've got a long way to go yet, but I also know I can get there now."

Elizabeth smiled. "And that's what I've been waiting to hear you to say."

The End . . . of part 17.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **Congratulations, you've made it to the end. We hope you enjoyed the ride, because we had a blast. We hope to see you again in the future.

**WHAT'S LEFT BEHIND - Chapter 18**

John sat in the chair across from Elizabeth's desk, listening to her as she responded to Rodney on her radio. She didn't take long, then her attention was fully focused on him. He resisted the urge to fidget beneath her scrutiny.

"How are you feeling today, John?" Elizabeth queried.

"I'm good." He was glad he could say that and mean it. Getting to the place he was at now hadn't been easy. It had been three long months of drastic ups and downs since he had made his turn around and started working towards recovery. Hellish months at times, for everyone. But John had stuck it out and everyone had supported him. He was grateful to them all.

Elizabeth was still studying him. "Do you feel a difference?"

John knew what she was asking. It was a week ago today that Beckett had started weaning him off the anti-depressants. Not that the good Doc had been happy about it, but John had gotten Kate to back him up. "Not really," he replied. "So far I feel pretty much the same. A little more sensitive to things, but I've been able to adjust to it easily enough."

"You're still sleeping okay?" Elizabeth prompted.

"So far." John frowned at her, wondering why she was asking so many questions when he knew she got a daily update about his condition from Beckett. "What's going on?" John sensed that something was up.

Elizabeth sighed, looking a bit uncertain, her eyes dropping to her hands which were clenched on her desk top. "I've been in discussions with Carson and Kate about you going back through the gate. A few weeks ago you asked Carson about it."

John nodded. "Yeah, and he said he didn't know when."

"He wasn't too happy about your weight gain back then," Elizabeth said, lifting her head and smiling a bit.

"He's still not happy with me," John replied, finding himself smiling back. And that was an understatement. In three months time he had only gained twelve pounds. And that was with eating six meals a day and drinking protein shakes twice a day. But he'd always had a good metabolism and two weeks ago he'd started running again with Ronon. The first few days had about killed him, but now John felt better than he could remember feeling in a long time. Exercise was good for his mind and his body, and Beckett had pretty much agreed with him on that. Although he still watched John's weight like a hawk.

Elizabeth stood up, moving around to the front of the desk and perching on it. "I think he's a bit jealous. He told me he's put on six pounds on the past three months, even though he's been dieting a bit."

John chuckled at that, remembering how he'd seen Beckett eating a salad at lunch today and grumbling about it all the while. Watching John eat a cheese burger probably hadn't helped. But he realized that Elizabeth had called him into her office for a reason and he wanted to know what it was. "Is there a punch-line to this conversation?" he prompted.

"There is," Elizabeth allowed, looking serious now. She leaned in a bit then asked, "How would you like to go through the gate with your team?"

"What?" To say that John was stunned was an understatement. This was the last thing he had expected her to say. "You're not serious, are you?" A part of him wanted her to be joking, but another part of him felt a rush of excitement. He'd been put on light duty a month ago, progressing up to an eight hour shift, with rest periods. He felt ready to get back to his job on a physical level. Nothing like heading into an out and out battle or anything, but certainly ready enough to do some exploring. Other than two trips to the mainland with Teyla, John had been stuck on Atlantis.

Elizabeth locked eyes with John. "I'm very serious. It wouldn't be an exploratory mission, mind you. I thought you might like to relieve Lorne's team and take a visit to M3M-787. It's time to meet with them to trade again."

John knew that they went to the Silian world every other month to trade candy bars for vegetables. The Silians were simple and pleasant people, and their world was pretty and serene. Going there would be a cakewalk. A chance to get his feet wet without having to worry about losing his footing and drowning. Which made John realize what Elizabeth was doing. She was giving him a chance to get back on the horse, so to speak. Which should have made him happy and eager to go, but all he felt at the moment was doubt. "Are you sure Beckett's willing to let me out of his clutches?" John countered. He wanted to give himself a moment to think about this.

"I'm sure," Elizabeth said firmly. "As I said, I've been talking with Carson and Kate. They think you're ready to take the next step. You need to ease your way back to normal, John. This would be a good start."

"Is it definite or can I think about it?" he countered. Because he really wasn't sure if he was ready. In fact, John was starting to feel panic set in. It pushed him out of the chair and onto his feet, fidgeting.

Elizabeth looked surprised, then concerned. "John, are you all right? Do you want me to call Carson?"

He shook his head, trying desperately to hold onto his control. He was not going to flip out about this. What he was going to do was talk to Kate. In the past three months John had learned to trust the woman. She never once tried to patronize him, or force him into talking during their sessions. In fact she pretty much let him control what happened, and John was grateful to her for that. For the trust she showed him. But what he needed right now was her input and support. "I just...I need to think about it. I'll get back to you." With that he was out the door, practically running into the nearest transporter. When the door shut, John leaned against the wall, feeling himself trembling. He closed his hands into fists, closed his eyes and willed himself to get control back.

Teyla had been teaching John breathing techniques designed to help him find calm for both his body and his mind. He had scoffed at them at first, but after a while he had come to realize they actually worked. So John focused on breathing in deep and exhaling slowly, until his heart stopped thumping in his chest and he was able to control the tremors that shook him. To control the fear.

By then the transporter had reached it destination and was simply waiting for him to disembark. Which John did, setting a course straight for Kate's office. He needed to talk about this, to work out why he was so afraid of this. He needed to figure out what it meant. So when he reached Kate's door, he knocked on it before he could talk himself out of it.

"Come in!" Kate called out.

John entered the room, making his way over to Kate's desk. She had her lap top open, which gave him pause. "You're busy."

Kate shook her head. "Not really. Just clearing some files. What can I do for you, Colonel?"

"Do you have a minute to talk?" he asked, and he wondered if he looked as desperate as he felt. Maybe so because Kate didn't hesitate. She nodded and gestured to the chair across from her desk.

"I have all the time you need," Kate replied. "What's on your mind."

John didn't sit down because he felt too wound up. Instead he paced for a minute, deciding if he really wanted to do this or not. Then he realized he needed to do this. He needed to keep taking those tiny steps forward. Nothing about his recovery had been easy, and it wasn't over yet. Nor would he be back to what had once passed for normal for a long time. But John knew his coming here and wanting to talk was maybe a big step in that direction. "Elizabeth offered to let me go off world with my team," he blurted out.

Kate didn't look surprised. "Yes, we talked about it."

"You think I'm ready?" John had to ask, he had to know.

"She wouldn't have made the offer if I hadn't believed you were," Kate said gently. "You really weren't expecting this though. Were you?"

John shook his head. There was no reason to lie about it. "I figured it would be months before Beckett would clear me."

Kate stood up, moving to his side and easing him over towards the couch. She sat down, drawing her with him. "You've come so far in such a short time," she began.

"Three months isn't a short time," John countered. He gripped his right knee, trying to get his leg to stop bobbing up and down in a nervous reaction.

"Given how deep into depression you were, it is," Kate said gently. "Your recovery to this date has been remarkable, yet not really all that surprising."

John was surprised to hear that. "Really? And here I thought it was taking forever. I've fought against it pretty much every step of the way."

Kate shook her head, her hand coming out to cover his on his knee. "Once you decided you wanted to get better, you've thrown yourself into fighting back. You've been completely focused on doing what you've needed to do. And it's working."

"I guess." John wasn't so sure that mattered right now.

"What are you afraid of, Colonel?" Kate prompted. "Why does the thought of going through the gate scare you?"

John thought about it for a moment, sorting through his chaotic emotions. "I guess...I'm afraid I'll fail," he said at last.

Kate looked stunned at his reply. "Fail in what way?"

"Fail my team," John clarified. "What if something happens and I freeze up? They need to be able to trust me to watch their backs."

"I think they trust you," Kate said gently. "When I brought them in for the group sessions, you told me you believed them when they said they trusted you, Colonel. Were you lying about that?"

John shook his head. "No. I wasn't lying. But it was just words, you know? It's easy to say them, but hard to live up to them. My whole life is all about actions speak louder than words. It what you do, more than what you say, that matters. What if I do the wrong thing?" And John was shaking again, shaking and nauseous as a cold sweat broke out over his skin.

Kate grounded him with her hand on his arm. "I don't know what's going to happen, Colonel. No one does. But I do know you'll never find out if you don't go out there again. And, just for the record, we've talked to your team and they think you're ready. They're ready to follow wherever you lead them."

"Elizabeth isn't doing this to prove something to me, is she?" John countered, because the thought suddenly occurred to him that she might. Since that day he had begged her to stay on Atlantis, the day he had made a stand and turned his life around, they had talked about what happened. About her guilt towards him and what he had suffered. John had told her a million times that he no longer blamed her, that at the very least she was forgiven. But he couldn't help but wonder now if she still hadn't been able to forgive herself. Which he could understand, probably better than anyone. He had a long way to go before his own closet was empty of guilt and demons.

"She's doing this because she believes you're ready," Kate replied. "It's as simple as that, Colonel."

He believed she meant that, but at the same time he still couldn't shake his doubt or his fear. "I dreamed about Thalan last night," he blurted out. And it had been weighing on him, heavily, since he'd awakened from the dream.

Kate's expression didn't change, but her eyes did darken as she asked, "What was the dream about?"

"He was back on Atlantis and he was goading me to kill everyone. Telling me that it was there fault I was broken," John replied. And it felt good to say that outloud.

"How did it make you feel?" Kate queried.

John locked eyes with her as he replied. "PIssed off. Pissed off enough to dream I had a gun and I killed him. Nailed him right between the eyes."

Kate looked a bit shocked at that, but her tone was cool and collected as she asked, "So he died in your dream?"

"No. He just disappeared." John stood up and started pacing again. He could feel agitation creeping up on him but damn if he was going to let it beat him. He was stronger than that. He had worked too hard to fall back into those doubts and fears. "But I was glad I shot him. I woke up feeling confused, but pleased."

"That's a good sign," Kate told him.

John supposed it was. "Do I have to go on this mission?" he asked, because he still wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Kate shook her head. "No. Whether or not you go is up to you."

"Okay." Right now that was all he needed to hear. Heading for the door, John stopped as he reached it, turning back to smile at Kate. "Hey, can we count this as my last session for this week?" He was down to two a week and he had just one more for this one.

"No," Kate shot back. "You know the rules. My door is always open to you, but the mandatory sessions are just that. Mandatory. So I'll see you in two days."

John pretended to pout, then he smiled and said softly, "Thanks, doc," before striding out the door. He would go for a short run to clear his head, then he would talk to Elizabeth.

OoO

John ran into Elizabeth in the mess hall, and convinced her to eat in her office so they could talk. So now they were sitting around her desk, sandwiches in front of them. John had yet to take a bite.

Elizabeth noticed and pointed at his plate. "Eat then talk."

He was going to argue but knew it was easier to comply. Everyone in Atlantis seemed to be watching his eating habits. His own men would hand him candy bars and cookies from their own private stashes. The biggest surprise of all being Rodney giving up his favorite chocolate cake to John, every Friday night. The not so cool part of that being that Rodney sat there watching until he ate it all. But he didn't have the heart to tell McKay that he really didn't like chocolate cake. So he choked it down with a smile. Like he did now with his sandwich bite.

"What did you want to talk about, John?" Elizabeth asked, after taking a bite of her own sandwich.

"About the mission," he replied, reaching for his glass of milk. Because Beckett still had him drinking three glasses of the stuff a day.

Elizabeth laid her sandwich aside. "Are you ready to go? I can clear it for tomorrow morning."

John pushed his own plate away, his appetite gone. Not that he had had much of one anyway. He ate to get better, not because he cared about food. "I'm not sure I'm ready to do this," he said bluntly.

"Why not?" Elizabeth looked surprised by his confession. "It's not going to be dangerous for any of you, John. The Silians are peaceful and we've been trading with them for over a year. Think of it as a friendly visit and the chance to get outside and stretch your legs."

"But what if something happens?" John countered, letting his fears show. Letting her see his doubts. He wanted her to understand why he wasn't ready. Why this was a bad idea. "What if I can't handle it?"

But Elizabeth was shaking her head at him. "You can't think that way, John. You can't second guess yourself like that."

He was ready to argue that with her because, sure he could. Second guessing himself at this point was all he had left. "I just...I don't think I'm ready to go out there yet," he stated firmly, and he could see that Elizabeth already had a reply formulated, but she didn't get a chance to say anything because at that moment Rodney burst in the office.

He looked surprised to see John sitting there, but recovered swiftly and asked, "Ready for the mission? Not that it's really a mission mission. But it'll be nice to get out through the gate, won't it?" Rodney was babbling on without bother to take a breath.

"I'm not going," John interjected, watching all the wind go out of McKay's sails.

"What?" Rodney looked stunned as he faced John. "Are you kidding? Why not?" Before John could reply, Rodney was turning to Elizabeth. "I thought you said he could go through the gate? The Silians aren't dangerous!" Rodney's voice was getting louder and sharper.

Elizabeth raised her hands in an appeasing gesture. "He can go as far as I'm concerned. But, apparently, he doesn't want too."

John was becoming disgruntled being talked about. "HE is right HERE!" he snapped.

"Why don't you want to go through the gate?" Rodney asked, looking like someone had slapped him. His eyes were wide with disbelief and he looked pale with splotches of color high on his cheeks. "You love going through the gate. It's all you've been talking about. Getting better so you can go back through the gate. Well here's your chance!"

"I don't think I'm ready yet," John shot back, feeling suddenly on the defense and not liking it one bit.

Rodney's eyes went wider, his mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water, then he was stabbing a finger in John's direction. "Don't be stupid!" he hissed. "You're ready! We're all ready! Get with the program, Colonel!"

John had his mouth open to deny it when suddenly something clicked into place. Rodney meant what he said. He thought John was ready for this. And Rodney was seldom wrong about anything and John wanted him to be right about this. So instead of arguing, he slumped back in his chair, feeling the tension draining out of him, and nodded. "Okay. I'm ready."

"Are you sure?" It was Elizabeth asking. She looked a little shell shocked.

"He's sure," Rodney replied for him.

John simply smiled and nodded.

OoO

John didn't sleep that night. Hadn't expected too. They were leaving for Silia in the morning. So his night was plagued with dreams of Thalan on a killing spree in Atlantis. Only this time he killed himself, which meant he killed John, which was when he woke up in bed, shaking, chilled by a cold sweat with his stomach twisting into knots. He puked twice before finding the will to shower and get dressed. He didn't even attempt breakfast.

Beckett gave him the once over, it was the final check he had to pass to get through the gate. John didn't lie about breakfast. He even offered up the fact he hadn't slept much because of nightmares. Which made Beckett question whether or not he should go through the gate. A question he asked of John just as Ronon appeared to check on him.

"You can do this, Sheppard," the Satedan stated, from his position of leaning in the doorway.

"I'm not so sure about that," John replied. He was honest enough to admit he was something of a mess right now. Then Ronon had to go and say the magic words.

"I trust you."

Which had John sliding off the bed and patting Beckett on the shoulder. "I'm going. I'll eat a couple of powerbars along the way."

Carson nodded. "Be sure you do." And as he sent John off he looked somewhat like a proud father.

So John gathered with his team before the gate, smiled like he meant it as he said goodbye to Elizabeth, then he stepped through the puddle with her words echoing in his ears.

"Good luck and come back safe."

He intended to do just that.

OoO

John should have known it wouldn't be that easy for them. It never was. The Silians had greeted them with smiles and warm affection, drawing them into their fold and holding a feast in their honor. John even managed to eat fairly well, under Teyla's watchful eye. By mid-afternoon he was finding himself able to relax and enjoy the company. Although he had a lingering buzz of unease. Like something was raising the hairs on the back of his neck. Something bad was going to happen.

It was Teyla who shouted the warning. "WRAITH!"

And in that moment the first of the Darts appeared and all hell broke loose. It was total chaos and John knew he couldn't save everyone. But he felt himself slipping back into soldier-mode with ease as Wraith were beamed down and started attacking. The Silian's had a hiding place and John and his team did their best to lay cover for them to escape before making their own way towards the gate. John had to get his team back to Atlantis. He reloaded his P90 and fired on two more Wraith.

Rodney was at the DHD, getting ready to dial.

"NOW!" John shouted at him. Then he gestured for Ronon and Teyla to head for the gate, all of them still firing. And that's when it happened. John turned to get Rodney and he froze at the sight before him. A Wraith had Rodney on the ground and was looming over him, ready to feed. Having been in that position before, John knew how it felt. He had been stunned at the time and helpless. But he wasn't helpless now and Rodney needed him. That spurred John into action.

"HEY UGLY!" He shouted, as he ran towards the Wraith. The creature froze then turned to face him, abandoning Rodney for the moment.

John waited for him to approach, almost too close, before filling his body with lead. The bastard was damn hard to kill, but he finally lay still on the ground and John ran to Rodney's side. "You okay?"

Rodney was shaking and pale, but he looked otherwise unharmed. "No! I'm not okay!" he snapped. "Can we go now?"

"Sure thing." The gate was open and waiting for them. John hauled Rodney to his feet and helped him run."

"Thanks, for the saving me thing," Rodney gasped out as they reached Ronon and Teyla.

John grinned. "Just doing my job," he stated, then he pushed Rodney through, gestured for Ronon and Teyla to follow, then he stepped into the puddle, anxious to get home.

The debrief was brief, then Elizabeth sent them off to the infirmary for post checks. They were all saddened by the culling and Elizabeth was already getting Lorne's team assembled to return in the morning to check on the Silian's. John straggled behind the others, needing a moment to himself. Needing a moment of silence. They had come so close to losing Rodney. John shuddered at the thought then told himself to pull it together. They had survived just like always and it had felt good being out there.

So he shook off the gloom and doom feeling, like he had always done in the past and made his way to the infirmary. Everyone else had come and gone and Beckett was waiting for him. He sat down on the gurney only to realize he was trembling, hard enough that his teeth just about clacked together.

"Colonel, are you all right?" Carson's voice betrayed his concern. "Are you hurt?"

"N-no...I'm...I'm f-fine." John couldn't stop himself from stuttering. Then he felt an acid burn in the back of his throat and he gagged. Luckily Beckett got the message and grabbed a basin, holding it for him as John heaved his guts up. Then he felt himself tipping over until strong hands eased him back against the pillows. He was still shaking but not as hard. A damp towel wiped his face then a cool cup of water was pressed to his lips and John sipped, spit, then drank a bit. 

Carson eyed him with concern. "Feeling better now?"

John nodded, lifting one hand to scrub over his face. He was still shaking but it was easing up little by little. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

"I think it's a delayed reaction to everything that happened," Carson replied. "To the Wraith attack that you weren't expecting, and to the adrenaline rush your body hasn't experienced in quite a while."

"Yeah, guess it has been awhile." John clasped his hands together then asked, "How's my team? They okay? Rodney?"

Carson smiled warmly. "They're all fine. I sent them off to eat and sleep. You need to do the same."

John grimaced. "I'm not all that hungry at the moment," he protested. His stomach was empty but he still felt a bit nauseous.

"I suppose the food can wait," Carson allowed. "I want you to know something though. Actually I'm rather just passing along a message from your team. You did good out there, John. You did your job and you brought them home. Like we all knew you would."

"I didn't have time to be scared," he confessed. But hearing Carson's words sent a rush of warmth through John. He felt at peace with himself for the first time in a long time. He could feel some of his doubts and guilt melting away.

Carson patted his shoulder. "I want you to get some sleep, then when you wake up you eat then go talk to Kate. You've passed a milestone, Colonel, but the road ahead is still going to be rocky."

John knew that and he was able to accept it now. "I'm ready for whatever comes my way," he said firmly. And he meant it.

"Would you like to sleep here or in your room?" Carson asked.

"My room," John replied, without hesitation. He wanted a shower and his own clothes. And some time alone to reflect on things. He slid off the bed and clapped Beckett on the shoulder. "Thanks, Doc. For everything." John knew that Beckett had his own guilt and that the things John had forced him to do to help him hadn't been easy for him.

Carson grinned then waved him off.

John walked back to his room, feeling the weight of exhaustion creeping over him. But it was a good kind of tired for once. He entered his room, stripped and took a quick shower. After drying off he pulled on sweats and a t-shirt and crawled into bed. There were images dancing in his head. Ford and the Wraith, Sumner and the Genii. All of his demons dancing in the shadows of his mind. But he didn't fear them any more.

Settling into his pillow he closed his eyes. He was ready for whatever the future would bring. Because whatever happened he knew he wouldn't face it alone. He knew his friends had his six, just like he had theirs. 

Drifting into sleep, John slept without dreaming.

**THE END**


End file.
